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ARTHUR  MASON  KNAPP 


J839-J898 


a  Memorial 


"...  that  best  portion  of  a  good  man's  life, 
His  little,  nameless,  unremembered  acts 
Of  kindness  and  of  love." 


BOSTON,   MASS. 

1899 


A     <-, 


A  RTHUR  MASON  KNAPP 
£~\  was  born  August  8,  1839,  at 
Saint  Johnsbury,  Vt.,  a  place  then, 
as  now,  remarkable  among  New 
England  villages  for  the  high  moral 
and  intellectual  tone  of  its  inhabit- 
ants, and  as  the  seat  not  only  of  an 
important  business  enterprise  but  of 
an  excellent  institution  of  learning. 
It  was  in  an  ideal  and  an  idyllic 
environment  that  the  active  mind 
and  sensitive  nature  of  the  boy 
found  happy  and  normal  develop- 
ment. Though  he  removed  with  his 
parents  to  Boston  when  he  was  fif- 
teen years  old,  he  cherished  a  very 
warm  affection  for  his  native  place, 
and  a  just  pride  in  it,  as  long  as  he 
lived.  No  vacation  was  complete 
that  was  not  prefaced  or  supple- 
mented by  a  visit  to  the  haunts  of 
his  boyhood. 

Of  his  ancestry  much  might  be 
3 

M208789 


said,  for  one  of  the  recreations  of 
his  later  years  was  an  exhaustive 
study  of  the  genealogy  of  his  family, 
the  result  of  which  is  a  monument 
of  the  patience  and  thoroughness 
which  marked  all  his  investigations, 
whether  for  himself  or  for  others.  It 
is  enough  here  to  say  that  he  was  of 
the  seventh  generation  in  descent 
from  William  Knapp,  who  came  from 
England  to  this  country,  probably 
with  Sir  Richard  Saltonstall,  in  1630, 
and  became  one  of  the  first  settlers 
of  Watertown,  Mass. ;  and  that  his 
parents  were  Hiram  and  Sophronia 
(Brown)  Knapp. 

A  thoughtful,  studious  boy,  it  was 
a  matter  of  course  that,  on  remov- 
ing to  Boston,  Arthur  should  con- 
tinue the  line  of  study  begun  in  the 
St.  Johnsbury  Academy,  and  he  was 
at  once  placed  in  the  Boston  Latin 
School,  then  under  the  head-master- 
ship of  Francis  Gardner,  to  whom 
he  doubtless  owed,  in  some  measure, 
the  habit  of  accuracy,  the  love  of 
research,  and  the  enthusiasm  for 


knowledge  which  were  of  such  serv- 
ice to  him  and  to  the  public  in  later 
years.  Here  he  was  graduated  in 
1859,  at  the  head  of  a  class  in  which 
there  was  a  large  number  of  good 
scholars,  having  borne  off  year  after 
year  prizes  for  "exemplary  conduct 
and  punctuality,"  for  "  excellence  in 
the  classical  department,"  for  "trans- 
lations into  Latin  verse,"  and  a 
Franklin  medal.  One  of  his  class- 
mates writes :  — 

"I  well  recall  the  Latin  School - 
the  room  just  as  it  looked  in  my 
boyhood,  and  the  faces  of  the  boys 
—  Arthur  usually  at  the  head  of  the 
class.  Arthur  was  the  boy  who 
could  not  be  floored  anywhere  in 
that  Latin  Grammar.  Several  of  us 
knew  it  well,  but  he  knew  every 
word  of  it." 

And  another,  who  was  his  chief 
competitor,  adds  to  similar  testimony, 
that  Arthur  held  his  leadership  with 
such  unassuming  modesty  as  never 
to  excite  a  feeling  of  jealousy  among 
his  classmates. 

5 


He  entered  Harvard  College  with- 
out conditions  —  a  record  which  was 
at  that  time  a  mark  of  distinction  — 
and  was  graduated  with  honor  in 
1863.  His  preference  was  for  the 
classical  and  the  scientific  studies, 
but  with  characteristic  fidelity  he 
neglected  none,  and  this  was  before 
the  day  of  electives. 

Though  he  missed  somewhat  of 
the  social  life  of  college  by  residing 
in  Boston  during  his  entire  course, 
walking  to  and  from  Cambridge 
every  day,  he  made  some  warm  and 
lasting  friendships,  and  maintained 
through  life  a  loyal  interest  in  his 
alma  mater,  from  which  he  held  the 
degree  of  A.M.  as  well  as  that  of 
A.B.  He  often  spoke  with  pride  of 
the  record  made  by  his  class  since 
graduation,  referring  not  only  to 
those  who,  like  John  Fiske,  Gov- 
ernor Greenhalge,  Secretary  Fair- 
child,  Frederick  Brooks,  and  others, 
have  been  leaders  of  thought  and 
action,  but  to  the  entire  membership, 
which,  almost  without  exception,  is 
6 


composed  of  men  of  high  principles 
and  useful  lives. 

In  September  following  his  gradu- 
ation Mr.  Knapp  began  teaching  in 
the  classical  department  of  Phillips 
Academy,  Andover,  under  Dr.  Samuel 
H.  Taylor;  but  in  May  he  was  obliged 
to  relinquish  this  position  on  account 
of  a  sudden  and  painful  lameness,  to 
which  he  was  henceforth  subject,  at 
longer  or  shorter  intervals,  for  the 
rest  of  his  life.  While  still  on  crutches 
he  went  as  private  tutor  of  one  of 
his  Andover  boys,  to  Irvington  on 
the  Hudson,  where  he  remained 
nearly  a  year.  In  June,  1865,  he 
was  appointed  sub-master  of  the 
Brookline  High  School,  a  position 
which,  with  the  exception  of  a  few 
months  in  1865-66,  during  which  he 
served  as  usher  in  the  Boston  Latin 
School,  he  held  for  ten  years. 

Mr.  Knapp  had  in  a  marked  degree 
many  of  the  qualities  essential  to  a 
successful  teacher.  A  genuine  sym- 
pathy with  his  pupils,  not  only  in 
their  work  but  in  their  pleasures, 


won  their  affection,  while  the  extent 
and  accuracy  of  his  knowledge  com- 
manded their  respect.  He  was  com- 
panion and  friend  as  well  as  teacher, 
and  many  of  his  former  pupils, 
whom  he  always  spoke  of  as  his 
"  boys  "  and  "  girls,"  could  testify  to 
his  life-long  interest  in  them.  Those 
were  happy  years  which  he  spent  in 
teaching  —  years  of  growth,  too,  for 
he  was  ever  a  pupil  with  his  pupils, 
learning  while  he  taught. 

But  Mr.  Knapp  was  to  find  a 
larger  field  for  the  exercise  of  his 
powers.  From  earliest  boyhood  he 
had  evinced  an  extraordinary  love  of 
books,  delighting  not  only  in  their 
contents  but  in  their  covers  and 
title-pages.  A  remarkable  memory, 
too,  he  had  for  what  he  read,  and  he 
very  early  formed  the  habit  of  asso- 
ciating ideas  and  classifying  facts, 
filling  his  books  with  clippings  and 
marginal  notes,  to  which  he  turned 
with  readiness  and  satisfaction  for 
information  or  confirmation  upon  any- 
subject  under  discussion  in  the 
8 


family  circle.  His  school  and  col- 
lege work,  as  well  as  his  teaching, 
had  been  characterized  by  love  of 
research,  accuracy  of  scholarship, 
and  great  painstaking  in  the  search 
for  truth,  while  his  retentive  memory 
had  made  of  his  mind  a  well-ordered 
storehouse  of  knowledge.  These 
and  other  tastes  and  habits  of  mind 
developed  by  education  and  strength- 
ened by  experience,  rendered  his 
appointment  to  the  service  of  the 
Boston  Public  Library  particularly 
fortunate  both  for  himself  and  the 
public. 

It  was  on  January  23,  1875,  that 
Mr.  Knapp  entered  upon  the  work 
which  was  to  occupy  him  for  the 
remainder  of  his  life.  For  twenty- 
four  years  he  gave  heart  and  soul  to 
the  interests  of  the  Library  and  the 
public,  to  which  he  sought  to  make 
its  treasures  in  the  largest  sense 
available. 

His  first  appointment  was  as  Cura- 
tor of  Periodicals  and  Pamphlets,  and 
of  the  Prince  and  Barton  Libraries, 
9 


which  latter  he,  in  collaboration  with 
another  library  officer,  catalogued ; 
but  for  the  last  twenty  years  he  held 
the  more  responsible  position  of 
Custodian  of  Bates  Hall.  To  the 
fidelity  with  which  he  discharged  the 
duties  of  this  office  there  was  abun- 
dant testimony  on  the  occasion  of  his 
death,  in  notices  of  the  press,  not 
only  of  Boston  but  of  many  other 
cities  ;  in  official  Library  notices,  and 
the  funeral  address  of  one  of  the 
Trustees  ;  and  in  innumerable  expres- 
sions of  a  sense  of  loss  on  the  part 
of  the  patrons  of  the  Library,  who 
make  grateful  reference  to  his  "  ready 
helpfulness,"  his  "  perfect  courtesy," 
his  "unvarying  kindness,"  his  "ex- 
traordinary intelligence." 

An  article  on  the  Boston  Public 
Library,-  by  Edmund  J.  Carpenter, 
in  the  New  England  Magazine  of 
August,  1895,  contains  the  following 
reference  to  him  :  — 

"Mr.  Arthur  Mason  Knapp  is  the 
librarian  in  charge  of  Bates  Hall, 
which  position  he  has  occupied  since 

10 


1 878.  His  service  with  the  library, 
however,  dates  from  1875  ;  the 
removal  of  the  library  to  the  new 
building,  in  January  of  the  present 
year,  marked  the  exact  completion  of 
his  twentieth  year  of  service.  With 
Mr.  Knapp  in  the  library  there  is 
little  need  of  a  catalogue.  The 
searcher  for  information  concerning 
any  subject  which  he  desires  to 
study  has  but  to  apply  to  him  and 
the  material  wished  is  immediately 
set  before  him.  To  the  student 
whose  time  is  precious,  or  who  is 
but  slightly  acquainted  with  the 
system  of  the  library,  Mr.  Knapp's 
aid  is  invaluable.  To  procure  a  new 
librarian  would  be  an  easy  task  com- 
pared with  that  of  endeavoring  to 
supply  the  place  of  such  public  serv- 
ants as  Mr.  Whitney  and  Mr. 
Knapp." 

To  those  who  knew  Mr.  Knapp 
thus  professionally,  as  well  as  to  all 
who  knew  him  personally,  it  was 
obvious  that  there  was  nothing  per- 
functory in  his  service.  He  loved 


his  work.  It  was  a  personal  pleas- 
ure to  him  to  direct  students  and 
readers  to  the  sources  of  knowledge, 
and  to  place  before  them  the  treas- 
ures in  his  keeping.  He  especially 
enjoyed  solving  the  literary  problems 
which  were  continually  submitted  to 
him,  and  the  zest  with  which  he  fol- 
lowed, sometimes  for  weeks,  a  diffi- 
cult quest,  and  his  exultation  when 
at  last  he  "  struck  "  some  elusive  fact, 
often  reminded  one  of  the  hunts- 
man's delight  in  the  chase.  Noth- 
ing could  have  been  more  congenial 
than  the  atmosphere  of  books  and 
study  in  which  he  lived,  or  more 
agreeable  than  his  relations  with  the 
immense  constituency  of  readers 
whom  he  served,  and  with  his  asso- 
ciates in  the  work. 

On  July  2,  1873,  Mr.  Knapp  mar- 
ried Miss  Abbie  Bartlett,  daughter 
of  James  Bartlett,  of  Brookline, 
Mass.  Intimately  associated  as  fel- 
low-teachers, as  they  had  been,  and 
endowed  with  similar  tastes,  while 
yet  admirably  supplementing  each 

12 


other,  their  mutual  attraction  was 
most  natural ;  and  the  strength  and 
sweetness  of  her  character,  the 
brightness  and  quickness  of  her 
mind,  together  with  her  charming 
personality,  rendered  their  union  one 
of  exceptional  promise.  It  was  in- 
deed a  happy  one,  but,  alas  !  of  short 
duration,  for  she  died  January  26, 
1876.  The  death  of  his  infant  son 
at  the  same  time  was  not  only  a  se- 
vere blow  to  his  affections  but  a  bit- 
ter disappointment  to  his  hope  of 
perpetuating  the  family  name  and 
traditions.  In  the  shadow  of  this 
double  sorrow  he  walked  to  the  end 
of  his  days  —  and  yet  not  morosely 
or  selfishly.  He  could  rejoice  in  the 
joy  of  others,  though  special  in- 
stances of  domestic  happiness  often 
caused  him  a  pang.  He  could  look 
and  listen  with  interest  when  fellow- 
travelers  showed  him  photographs  of 
their  families  and  discoursed  upon 
them  with  affectionate  pride,  and 
only  to  his  nearest  betray  the  heart- 
ache that  it  gave  him,  adding  bravely 
13 


to  an  expression  of  his  keen  sense  of 
loss,  "  But  I  must  bear  it  patiently,  if 
I  can." 

He  did  bear  it  patiently  —  cheer- 
fully, even,  and  found  genuine  hap- 
piness in  serving  others,  and  espe 
cially  in  the  home  which  he  shared 
with  his  mother  and  sister,  and  from 
which  he  had  been  absent  only  dur- 
ing his  brief  married  life  —  for  while 
in  Brookline  as  well  as  in  college,  he 
had  resided  with  his  parents,  in 
Boston. 

What  he  was  to  that  home  as  son 
and  brother  may  not  here  be  told, 
but  only  those  who  knew  him  there 
knew  him  at  his  best.  One  who 
often  sat  at  his  table  and  by  his  fire- 
side writes  :  — 

"No  one  could  see  him  in  the 
freedom  and  genial  fellowship  of  his 
home  life  without  being  impressed 
with  his  gentle,  affectionate  manner, 
his  generous  consideration  of  others, 
his  sincerity  and  warmth  of  heart ; 
which,  added  to  a  wealth  of  informa- 
tion and  a  readiness  to  add  his  word 


of  knowledge  on  almost  any  subject, 
together  with  a  delicate  humor  that 
often  irradiated  his  conversation, 
made  him  a  most  enjoyable  compan- 
ion. His  knowledge  never  made  him 
condescending,  nor  did  his  own  liter- 
ary tastes  cause  him  to  despise  or 
disregard  the  tastes  of  others.  He 
was  the  most  companionable  of  men. 

"  These  qualities,  which  character- 
ized him  always  and  everywhere, 
were  most  conspicuous  in  his  own 
home,  among  his  own  books,  in  the 
society  of  his  friends  and  his  family." 

Another  writes  :  — 

"  I  have  never  known  a  more  de- 
voted son,  a  more  affectionate 
brother,  or  a  kinder  friend." 

An  old  family  servant  writes  :  — 

"  I  shall  always  thank  God  that  I 
had  the  privilege  of  being  Mr. 
Knapp's  humble  servant  for  eleven 
years.  In  all  those  years  I  never  saw 
a  frown  on  his  face.  He  was  always 
pleasant  and  good  and  kind,  and  I 
have  felt  ever  since  I  left  him  that  I 
had  a  friend  to  go  to  if  I  was  in  need." 
'5 


Though  he  greatly  valued  his 
friends,  Mr.  Kriapp  shrank  from  gen- 
eral society,  and  a  natural  reserve 
veiled  from  strangers  his  peculiarly 
frank  and  sunny  nature.  Unconven- 
tional in  his  tastes  and  with  the  heart 
of  a  boy,  he  was  content  with  simple 
pleasures  and  was  happiest  in  the 
quiet  joys  of  home.  Vacation  letters 
telling  of  keen  enjoyment  contain 
such  expressions  as  these  :  — 

"  And  yet,  as  always  when  away 
from  you,  I  am  eager  to  have  my  va- 
cation over,  that  I  may  return  to  my 
loved  ones." 

Again  :  — 

"  My  vacation  has  been  a  very 
pleasant  one,  but  I  am  willing  to  go 
back  to  my  work  and  to  my  own 
folks.  People  here  are  very  kind 
and  courteous,  but  none  of  them  be- 
long to  me." 

But  Mr.  Knapp  had  many  resources 
of  diversion  in  his  quiet  home  life. 
Reading  was  of  course  the  principal 
one.  This  was  both  a  pastime  and  a 
business,  for  he  sought  not  only  to 
16 


keep  abreast,  as  far  as  possible,  with 
the  reading  public,  but  to  know  what 
was  going  on  in  the  world  at  large, 
as  well  as  in  the  literary  world.  He 
had  the  art  of  reading  rapidly  with- 
out reading  superficially,  and  in  ad- 
dition to  weightier  matters  found 
time  for  a  good  deal  of  biography, 
travel  and  fiction.  He  never  lost  his 
enjoyment  of  the  Greek  and  Latin 
classics,  and  in  his  last  years  many 
times  read  through  his  Anabasis  and 
Caesar  as  a  morning  recreation,  with- 
out once  having  occasion  to  consult 
the  dictionary.  Of  modern  lan- 
guages he  read  easily  German  and 
French,  and  had  some  knowledge  of 
Spanish. 

He  always  had  at  hand  for  his 
spare  hours  some  special  study,  as 
that  of  genealogy,  or  of  coins,  in 
which  he  found  relaxation  and  pleas- 
ure. He  was  skillful  in  the  use  of 
carpenters'  tools  and  enjoyed  contrib- 
uting thereby  to  the  comfort  and 
convenience  of  the  household.  He 
loved  the  book-stores,  and  often  for 
17 


his  afternoon  outing  simply  ex- 
changed the  library  for  the  book- 
stall. Among  these  and  the  curio- 
shops  he  spent  the  most  of  what  he 
called  his  "cigar  money."  He  kept 
pace  with  the  growth  of  the  Art 
Museum,  to  which  he  was  for  many 
years  a  subscriber,  and  no  one  re- 
joiced more  than  he  at  every  gener- 
ous gift  made  to  that  institution. 

His  love  of  nature,  of  which  he 
was  keenly  observant,  contributed 
much  to  his  enjoyment  of  life.  He 
was  in  the  habit  of  taking  long  walks 
in  the  suburbs  and  parks  of  Boston, 
where  he  was  quick  to  note  the  vary- 
ing aspects  of  tree  and  shrub,  while 
he  appreciated  with  an  artist's  eye 
the  beauties  of  the  landscape. 

His  vacations  were  passed  mostly 
among  the  mountains  of  New  Hamp- 
shire, to  which  he  returned  year  after 
year  with  ever  fresh  delight,  greeting 
familiar  scenes  like  old  friends,  and 
repeating  favorite  walks  with  all  the 
enthusiasm  of  a  first  visit.  Many  will 
long  remember  him  as  a  delightful 
18 


companion  and  guide  over  the  hills 
and  by  the  river,  in  West  Campton 
and,  earlier,  in  Gorham,  N.  H.,  where 
he  spent  many  happy  summers. 

His  first  visit  to  the  White  Moun- 
tains was  in  1862,  when,  with  two  of 
his  classmates,  he  made  a  pedestrian 
tour  from  Boston,  via  Concord  and 
Lake  Winnepesaukee,  to  the  summit 
of  Mt.  Washington,  including  all  the 
principal  places  of  interest  in  that 
region.  A  complete  diary  of  the 
trip,  contained  in  home  letters,  reads 
often  like  a  record  of  toil  and  hard- 
ship, but  to  him  it  was  an  experience 
of  keen  enjoyment,  the  discomforts 
of  which  only  piqued  his  love  of  ad- 
venture. 

Mr.  Knapp  made  two  visits  to 
Europe,  the  first  in  1874,  when,  ac- 
companied by  his  wife  and  his  sister, 
he  followed  in  general  the  route 
of  the  summer  tourist  in  England 
and  on  the  continent,  having  first 
enjoyed  some  glimpses  of  Ireland 
and  Wales  and  more  than  a  glimpse 
of  Scotland.  This  was  an  experi- 
19 


ence  of  almost  unalloyed  pleasure, 
for  which  his  reading  and  study  had 
amply  prepared  him.  Familiar  with 
the  historical  and  legendary  and  the 
literary  associations  of  places  visited, 
and  with  an  appreciative  eye  for  the 
beauty  and  grandeur  of  scenery,  he 
looked  at  things  also  practically 
and  could  always  give  facts  and 
figures,  as  well  as  impressions,  re- 
garding them.  In  view  of  the  fact 
that  he  had  as  yet  no  thought  of 
engaging  in  library  work,  it  is  inter- 
esting to  note,  in  the  home  letters 
which  form  a  complete  diary  of  his 
travels,  his  interest  in  the  manu- 
scripts and  rare  editions  of  the 
British  Museum,  the  Bodleian,  and 
other  Libraries,  and  his  persistent 
efforts  on  several  occasions  to  see 
some  treasure  of  this  sort  not  acces- 
sible to  the  general  public.  He 
studied  people  as  well  as  things,  and 
noted  national  and  individual  char- 
acteristics. Nothing  escaped  his 
keen  and  quick  observation. 

In  1880  Mr.  Knapp  made  a  second 


visit  to  England,  and  though  he 
sadly  missed  the  companionship 
which  had  enhanced  every  enjoy- 
ment of  the  former  visit,  he  was 
more  than  ever  impressed  with  the 
natural  beauty  of  the  "snug  little 
island "  ;  with  the  magnificence  of 
its  cathedrals,  of  which  he  made  a 
thorough  study  ;  and  with  the  vast 
resources  of  its  libraries,  where  he 
now  received  courtesies  and  privi- 
leges due  a  professional  librarian. 

Although  he  had  not  traveled  ex- 
tensively, Mr.  Knapp  was  so  well 
informed  in  regard  to  foreign  coun- 
tries that  he  sometimes  gave  the 
impression  of  having  visited  those 
which  he  knew  only  through  books. 
He  was  especially  interested  in 
Japan,  and  a  visit  to  that  country 
was  among  his  unfulfilled  dreams. 
For  he  looked  forward  to  a  period, 
not  of  idleness  nor  of  selfishness, 
either  of  which  would  have  been  im- 
possible to  him,  but  of  comparative 
leisure,  in  which  he  might  more 
freely  indulge  various  quiet  tastes 

21 


and  command  more  than  a  summer 
vacation  for  travel. 

He  was  in  the  enjoyment  of  his 
usual  health,  when,  on  the  ninth  of 
December,  he  felt  the  first  almost 
imperceptible  touch  of  paralysis. 
Not  recognizing  it  as  such,  however, 
he  remained  at  his  post  the  next  day 
—  a  busy  Saturday  —  though  suffer- 
ing greatly  from  the  progress  of  the 
disease,  which  in  a  few  days  took 
complete  possession  of  the  left  side 
of  the  body,  mercifully  leaving  un- 
touched the  noble  mind.  The  pain- 
ful, though  brief,  illness  was  borne 
with  patience  and  fortitude,  and  the 
gentle  spirit  was  released  from  the 
body  on  the  twenty-seventh  of  De- 
cember, 1898. 

It  was  not  an  eventful  life  here 
briefly  sketched,  but  it  embraced  the 
deepest  experiences  of  joy  and  of 
sorrow,  and  covered  tranquil  years  of 
cheerful  service.  It  made  little  noise 
in  the  world,  but  like  a  broad,  benefi- 
cent stream,  it  blessed  and  bright- 
ened all  it  touched. 

22 


There  was  in  Mr.  Knapp  a  rare 
blending  of  gentleness  and  strength. 
He  could  be  stern  in  his  denuncia- 
tion of  wrong,  and  he  hated  all  sham 
and  cant  and  insincerity  ;  but  he  had 
such  mastery  of  himself  that  he  could 
suppress  the  strongest  emotions,  and 
his  good-nature  seemed  absolutely 
imperturbable.  His  manner  was  al- 
ways quiet ;  his  voice,  so  expressive 
of  himself,  was  invariably  pleasant 
and  kindly. 

He  was  a  man  whom  to  know 
once  was  to  know  always,  for  he 
was  true  to  himself  —  to  his  princi- 
ples and  his  sentiments.  Nothing 
could  make  him  swerve  from  what 
he  believed  to  be  the  path  of  duty. 
Neither  time  nor  absence  had  power 
over  his  friendships.  Friends  who 
met  him  after  years  of  separation 
and  silence  were  greeted  with  as 
much  warmth  and  familiarity  as  if 
there  had  been  no  interruption  of 
intercourse.  He  loved  old  friends, 
familiar  scenes,  the  home  of  his  boy- 
hood, the  city  of  his  adoption,  his 
23 


country.  In  everything  he  was  loyal 
and  true. 

Of  his  religious  life,  as  of  all  deep 
experiences,  he  said  little ;  but  he  was 
a  devout  and  reverent  believer  in  the 
simple  gospel,  and  his  life  was  con- 
scientiously ordered  by  its  precepts. 
Tolerant  as  he  was  of  all  sorts  of 
fads,  he  had  little  patience  with  those 
who  seek  to  substitute  something 
else  for  the  Christian  religion.  He 
was  for  many  years  a  loyal  mem- 
ber of  the  Shawmut  Congregational 
Church,  serving  it  quietly,  but  with 
warm  heart  and  generous  hand.  He 
was  interested  in  all  organizations 
and  enterprises  that  have  for  their 
object  the  amelioration  of  mankind, 
and,  according  to  his  means,  contrib- 
uted to  their  support.  Many  a  young 
man  is  largely  indebted  to  him  for 
his  education. 

Much  more  might  be  said,  but  this 
tribute  of  a  sister's  affection  is  writ- 
ten as  under  the  eye  of  one  whos.e 
modesty  sought  to  conceal  his  vir- 
tues. K.  K. 
24 


Some  extracts  from  home  letters 
will  illustrate  characteristics  men- 
tioned, and  still  further  reveal  the 
man  and  his  way  of  looking  at 
things. 

The  first  are  from  the  boyish  diary 
of  the  pedestrian  tour  referred  to. 

'July  21.  Finding  a  good-looking 
barn  we  asked  permission  to  sleep 
there  [the  first  night  out]  and  were 
allowed  to  do  so.  We  had  hardly 
taken  our  knapsacks  off  when  we 
were  surrounded  with  boys  and  girls 
collected  from  the  neighborhood. 
We  amused  them  at  first  with  the 
spy-glass,  and  when  it  was  too  dark 
for  that  we  performed  some  very 
simple  gymnastic  feats.  At  every 
one  they  were  completely  dumb- 
founded and  would  exclaim,  "  I  tell 
you  that  takes  muscle!"  "That  is 
as  good  as  a  circus  !  "  etc.  We  got 
so  thoroughly  into  their  good  graces 
that  they  offered  us  pillows  and 
quilts,  but  of  course  we  declined 
with  thanks.  After  they  had  gone 
we  had  a  good  laugh,  for  what  we 
25 


did  was  very  simple,  and  all  the 
apparatus  we  had  was  a  pole,  so  that 
we  could  only  turn  somersaults  and 
do  a  very  few  things.  Two  of  the 
boys  held  the  pole  on  their  shoulders 
while  we  turned.  I  rather  think 
they  were  a  little  lame  the  next 
morning.  At  a  little  before  nine  we 
spread  the  tent  on  the  hay,  wrapped 
our  shawls  around  us  and  went  to 
sleep.  Twenty-three  miles  to-day.' 

'July  26.  Spent  the  night  in  a 
barn  arid  started  early  in  the  morn- 
ing and  after  walking  four  or  five 
miles  began  to  look  out  for  break- 
fast. Stopped  at  several  places  but 
were  unable  to  find  any  one  who 
could  accommodate  us.  At  last  we 
called  at  a  pleasant  house  near  a 
large  pond  and  were  told  we  could 
have  such  as  they  had.  It  was 
Saturday  and  they  were  rather 
poorly  off,  they  said.  We  had  cold 
lamb  (very  nice),  bread  and  milk 
with  splendid  blueberries,  white 
strawberries  fresh  from  the  vines, 
three  kinds  of  pie,  cake  and  cheese, 
26 


water  and  cider  —  all  for  twelve 
cents  apiece !  Then  we  took  a  row 
of  an  hour  on  the  pond  and  amused 
ourselves  till  the  sun  got  too  warm, 
when  we  went  up  to  the  top  of  a  high 
hill  and  lay  down  and  snoozed.  Spent 
an  hour  and  a  half  looking  at  the 
splendid  view  of  Squam  Lake  and 
vicinity,  eating  berries  and  oiling  our 
shoes.  Walked  along  very  leisurely 
as  it  was  too  warm  for  fast  walking. 
Took  a  bath  in  a  small  stream  to 
cool  off.  Stopped  for  dinner  at  the 
house  of  a  man  who  preaches  Sun- 
days and  cobbles  week  days.  We 
slept  a  while  under  some  trees  and 
then  pushed  on  past  some  very  high 
mountains.  Reached  Campton  Hol- 
low at  about  8  P.M.,  and  applied  at  a 
large  house  for  Sunday  board.  We 
have  made  it  a  plan  to  apply  at  large 
nice  houses,  for  they  are  apt  to  be 
neater  and  the  people  are  more  will- 
ing to  accommodate.  We  were  re- 
ceived here  after  some  hesitation.' 

'July    28.     We     had     about    the 
pleasantest  time  at  Dr.  Sanborn's  I 
27 


ever  had.  The  family  were  so  pleas- 
ant and  obliging,  and  when  we  came 
to  settle  they  refused  point  blank  to 
accept  anything.  They  said  they  did 
not  keep  a  tavern  and  hardly  ever 
entertained  strangers,  but  for  some 
reason  or  other — they  knew  not 
why  —  they  received  us.  We  bade 
them  good-by  last  night,  but  found 
this  morning  that  they  were  up  and 
had  a  hot  breakfast  for  us,  and  that 
the  doctor  was  intending  to  give  us  a 
lift  in  his  wagon.  Mrs.  S.  gave  us 
a  pan  of  cookies  to  eat  among  the 
mountains,  as  they  would  taste  good, 
she  said,  and  a  large  bundle  of  sand- 
wiches to  eat  during  the  day.  The 
doctor  carried  us  up  to  the  borders 
of  Woodstock,  ten  miles  on  our  way. 
He  took  us  through  the  pleasantest 
scenery  he  could  find,  fording  the 
Pemigewasset  and  riding  along  in 
the  bed  of  the  stream,  which  was 
only  five  or  six  inches  deep. 

'  After  beginning  our  walk  we  kept 
on  for  two  or  three  miles  until  we 
came  to  a  brook,  where  we  bathed 
28 


and  also  washed  some  clothes.  The 
brook  was  a  perfect  jewel,  full  of 
little  waterfalls  and  looked  as  if  it 
had  some  trout  in  it.  After  that  we 
walked  on  a  mile  or  two  and  then 
stopped  to  rest,  for  it  was  awfully 
hot.  Got  dinner  and  walked  a  few 
rods,  till  we  came  to  a  little  church, 
in  the  shadow  of  which  we  are  now 
resting,  waiting  for  it  to  get  a  little 
cooler.  We  are  only  four  and  a  half 
miles  from  the  Flume  House  and  in 
the  midst  of  very  lofty  mountains 
and  splendid  scenery.  We  are  en- 
joying ourselves  very  much  now,  bet- 
ter than  during  the  first  part  of  the 
trip,  when  we  were  so  sore  and  lame. 
We  can  see  the  Franconia  Notch 
very  plainly  from  this  spot  where  we 
are  resting.' 

'  July  30.  My  last  letter  was  writ- 
ten on  the  top  of  a  high  hill  near 
Bethlehem,  and  now  we  are  twenty- 
three  miles  from  that  place.  We 
walked  to  a  farmer's  a  little  this 
side  of  Bethlehem  and  took  supper 
and  found  a  barn  to  sleep  in.  I 
29 


never  slept  better  in  my  life  than  I 
did  there  on  the  hay,  not  waking 
once  from  the  time  when  I  lay  down 
till  this  morning  at  half  past  four 
o'clock.  Marched  seven  miles  before 
breakfast,  then  got  our  bread  and 
milk.  After  breakfast  we  walked  on 
till  we  came  to  a  good  place  for 
bathing.  We  have  bathed  in  the 
Sowhegan,  at  its  junction  with  the 
Merrimac,  in  Lake  Winnepesaukee, 
the  Ammonoosuc,  and  a  great  many 
small  streams.  We  had  hardly 
started  on  our  way  when  we  were 
overtaken  by  a  very  severe  thunder- 
storm. We  walked  on,  hoping  to 
find  some  shelter,  till  we  reached  the 
White  Mountain  House,  where  we 
took  dinner.  While  we  were  here 
the  Mr.  B.,  whom  I  mentioned  in  my 
last  letter,  drove  up  in  great  style, 
with  four  horses,  two  servant  men, 
etc.  He  spoke  very  pleasantly  to  us 
and  said  we  might  meet  again. 

'  We  started  for  Crawford's  at  1.45 
and  just  after  we  had  passed  Giant's 
Grave    another     tremendous     storm 
30 


came  up  and  we  were  obliged  to 
walk  four  miles  in  as  hard  a  rain  as  I 
ever  saw,  with  mud  almost  over  our 
shoes.  When  we  reached  Crawford's 
we  found  Mr.  B.'s  party  and  one  or 
two  others  whom  we  had  seen  before 
at  the  Profile  House,  and  we  were 
immediately  the  lions  of  the  day,  and 
were  surrounded  by  ladies,  gentle- 
men, and  children,  and  questioned 
and  wondered  at  to  our  hearts'  con- 
tent.' 

*  July  31.  Started  at  about  8  A.M. 
for  Mt.  Washington  and  reached  the 
Tip-Top  House  at  2  P.M.  after  nearly 
six  hours'  climb.  I  never  saw  such 
traveling,  the  ascents  sometimes 
being  as  steep  as  the  roof  of  a  house, 
and  over  loose  rocks,  so  that  we  had 
to  jump  from  one  to  another,  which 
was  very  fatiguing,  and  my  strength 
was  not  as  great  as  usual.1  About 
two  hours  from  the  summit  it  began 
to  rain  hard,  and  we  could  not  hold 
umbrellas,  for  the  wind  blew  a  per- 
fect hurricane.  We  were  all  of  us 

1  He  had  been  ill  the  day  before. 

31 


soaked  through  and  through.  When 
we  reached  the  Tip-Top  House  I  was 
so  used  up  that  I  sat  down  on  the 
floor  and  almost  dropped  asleep.  A 
gentleman  saw  how  badly  off  I  was 
and  guided  me  to  the  Summit  House, 
where  beds  could  be  had.  I  called 
for  a  room,  had  myself  rubbed  dry, 
changed  my  clothes  completely  and 
lay  down.  I  fell  asleep  immediately 
but  slept  only  a  few  minutes.  I  felt 
better  when  I  awoke  and  after  a 
hearty  dinner  felt  perfectly  well. 
The  rain  cleared  off  towards  night 
and  gave  us  a  splendid  sunset  and  a 
very  good  view.  There  were  four  of 
us  Harvard  boys  there  and  a  gentle- 
man with  his  daughter.  We  had  the 
Summit  House  to  ourselves  and  en- 
joyed the  evening  very  much,  sitting 
around  the  fire.  The.  house  is  a  real 
snug  little  place,  with  very  small 
rooms  just  large  enough  for  a  bed 
and  a  passage  along  the  front  side  of 
it.  The  partitions  are  of  cloth,  so 
that  every  word  which  is  spoken  in 
any  room  can  be  distinctly  heard. 
32 


The  beds  looked  quite  neat,  but  when 
I  turned  down  the  clothes  I  found 
that  they  had  not  been  well  aired, 
and  so  we  slept  on  the  outside  with 
our  shawls  around  us.  I  never 
passed  a  more  quiet  or  comfortable 
night  in  my  life.  Up  at  half  past 
four  to  see  the  sun  rise  and  were  so 
fortunate  as  to  find  the  morning 
clear.  At  4.4$  the  sun  appeared  and 
gave  us  a  most  gorgeous  sight. 
There  were  clouds  far  below  us,  upon 
which  the  rays  of  the  sun  struck 
and  tinged  them  with  a  rosy  light. 
The  clouds  were  magnificent,  like  a 
great  white  sea,  with  here  and  there 
a  dark  green  mountain  top  project- 
ing. We  could  see  the  Green  Moun- 
tains distinctly,  and  a  mist  or  cloud 
where  the  ocean  lay. 

'At  about  7.30  A.M.  six  of  us,  in- 
cluding Mr.  W.  and  his  daughter, 
started  with  a  guide  for  Tuckerman's 
Ravine,  a  deep  gorge  between  Mt. 
Washington  and  Mt.  Franklin.  After 
an  hour's  scramble  over  the  rocks, 
down  the  channels  of  brooks,  over 
33 


numberless  difficulties,  we  reached 
the  bottom.  Here  we  found  an 
enormous  amount  of  snow  and  en- 
joyed ourselves  snowballing,  sliding 
on  the  snow,  etc.  There  is  an  arch 
through  the  snow  three  hundred  feet 
long  and  wide  enough  for  several 
persons  to  go  abreast.  The  snow  is 
thirty  or  forty  feet  deep  above  the 
arch.  I  found  several  kinds  of 
flowers  growing  near  the  snow  and 
some  Greenland  plants,  and  made 
quite  a  collection,  but  have  given 
them  away  to  two  ladies  here  who 
are  very  much  interested  in  botany 
and  had  a  great  desire  to  possess 
them.  We  scrambled  back  over  the 
rocks  and  reached  the  top  at  about 
eleven  o'clock.  [Here  follows  an  ap- 
preciative account  of  the  " pluck"  of 
the  young  lady  of  the  party.]  Took 
dinner  and  started  down  the  carriage 
road  for  the  Glen.  Saw  lots  of  peo- 
ple who  had  seen  us  before.  They 
would  come  up  and  say,  "  Ah,  here 
are  the  travelers  we  have  met  so 
often  !  "  and  would  begin  conversing 
34 


with  us  as  pleasantly  as  if  we  had 
been  clothed  in  purple  and  fine  linen. 
We  walked  down  to  the  Glen  House 
in  less  than  three  hours.  The  road 
is  a  splendid  triumph  of  engineering, 
not  at  all  steep,  rising  one  foot  in 
eight  and  a  half,  very  wide,  sloping 
inwards,  and  with  a  high  wall  round 
the  outside.  At  the  Glen  House  we 
met  a  party  which  we  had  met  at 
Crawford's  and  at  the  Tip-Top 
House,  and  also  a  classmate  of  ours. 
Started  for  North  Conway  in  the 
afternoon  and  visited  Crystal  and 
Glen  Ellis  Falls  on  our  way,  by  far 
the  finest  falls  I  ever  saw.  Walked 
seven  miles  without  seeing  a  house 
and  did  not  see  even  a  clearing  till 
8.30  P.M.,  when  we  came  upon  a  party 
of  eleven  fellows  encamped  in  front 
of  a  house.  All  but  three  were  stu- 
dents of  Brown  University.  They 
had  a  team  to  carry  their  baggage,  a 
large  tent  to  sleep  in,  and  everything 
necessary  for  a  good  time.  They  in- 
vited us  to  spend  the  night  with 
them  and  we  did  so.  ...  In  the 
35 


morning  started  at  a  little  past  five 
and  walked  till  we  came  to  a  place  to 
bathe.  Took  breakfast  at  Jackson 
and  reached  North  Conway  at  11.30, 
having  walked  thirteen  miles.  Here 
I  found  Sister  and  was  n't  I  glad  to 
see  her  !  I  had  not  heard  a  word 
from  home  since  I  left  Concord, 
where  I  found  a  letter  from  George.' 

The  diary  closes  with  the  record 
of  a  solitary  march  of  forty-four  miles 
on  a  hot  day,  the  party  having  broken 
up  at  North  Conway,  where  he  spent 
a  few  days. 

The  following  selections  are  from 
letters  written  during  his  first  Euro- 
pean tour:  — 

1  EDINBORO,  July  i,  1874. 

'This  morning  we  started  at  10.15 
for  Melrose  and  Abbotsford.  On 
the  way  we  passed  Crichton  and 
Borthwick  Castles,  both  in  ruins,  the 
latter  mentioned  by  Scott  in  Mar- 
mion.  At  Melrose  we  spent  about 
an  hour  examining  the  ruins  of  the 
Abbey.  I  was  prepared  for  disap- 
36 


pointment,  but  was  delighted  with 
everything  we  saw.  The  capitals 
and  carved  work  are  exquisite,  far 
beyond  anything  we  have  seen  be- 
fore. The  ornaments  are  not  eaten 
away  by  the  tooth  of  time,  but  seem 
as  sharply  edged  as  at  first.  Such 
numbers  of  figures  expressing  every- 
thing possible  to  be  expressed  in 
stone  —  grotesque  faces,  distorted 
bodies,  saints  and  demons,  apostles 
and  kings,  a  perfect  museum  of  carv- 
ing. We  saw  the  tombs  of  Alex- 
ander II  and  his  queen  Joanna,  the 
wizard  Michael  Scott,  James  Douglas, 
killed  in  the  famous  Chevy  Chase 
in  1388,  and  others  of  the  same  line, 
the  spot  where  the  heart  of  Robert 
Bruce  was  buried,  the  grave  of  Tom 
Purdie,  the  faithful  forester  of  Wal- 
ter Scott. 

'  We  then  rode  about  three  miles 
to  Abbotsford,  where  we  were  raced 
through  the  apartments  open  to  the 
public,  glancing  at  portraits  of  Scott, 
his  mother,  wife,  son,  and  daugh- 
ters, of  James  IV  and  VI,  Cromwell, 
37 


Dryden,  Thomson,  Queen  Eliza- 
beth and  Mary,  of  the  Duchess  of 
Buccleuch,  to  whom  the  Last  Min- 
strel tells  his  Lay,  and  others  that  I 
now  fail  to  recall ;  at  interesting  ob- 
jects, such  as  guns  belonging  to  Rob 
Roy,  Andreas  Hofer,  and  Scott ; 
swords  of  his  son  and  of  the 
Marquis  of  Montrose,  execution 
swords,  a  two-handed  sword  from 
Bosworth  Field,  and  one  from  Cullo- 
den ;  armor  and  weapons  of  all 
kinds  from  all  lands  and  times ; 
Mary  Queen  of  Scots'  seal,  and  a 
painting  of  her  head  in  a  charger  ; 
lots  of  beautiful  and  rare  memen- 
toes ;  gifts  from  illustrious  persons 
of  different  lands ;  carved  and  inlaid 
furniture  four  or  five  centuries  old. 
I  could  have  spent  hours  there  in- 
stead of  a  few  minutes.  We  then 
drove  to  Dryburgh  Abbey,  where  we 
saw  the  tomb  of  Scott  and  those  of 
his  son,  his  wife,  his  daughter,  and 
Lockhart.  Mrs.  Lockhart  is  buried 
in  London.  Scott's  great-grand- 
daughter, his  only  descendant,  is  to 
38 


be  married  next  month  (or  this)  to  a 
Mr.  Maxwell,  who  takes  the  name  of 
Scott  and  resides  at  Abbotsford, 
which,  after  the  fifteenth  of  this 
month,  is  to  be  closed  to  the  public. 
It  seemed  hard  that  a  man  like 
Scott,  who  had  worked  so  long  and 
faithfully,  should  not  be  allowed  to 
live  longer  to  enjoy  the  fruits  of  his 
toil. 

'We  took  train  at  St.  Boswell's 
and  returned  home.  Our  usual 
good  fortune  attended  us  —  the 
weather  was  just  right  and  all  our 
plans  prospered.  Just  before  we 
entered  our  hotel  the  rain  began 
to  fall  and  it  continued  for  some 
time.' 

'LONDON,  July  24,  1874. 

'  To-day   we    have    spent    at    the 

British  Museum,  hard  at  work  seeing 

an    infinite    number    of    interesting 

things.     We  first  visited  the  gallery 

of  Roman  statues.     I  was  interested 

in  the  busts  of  the  emperors  and  the 

old  classic  writers  so  familiar  to  me. 

39 


In  this  department  were  splendid 
mosaics,  some  containing  admirable 
human  faces,  as  fine  in  color  and 
outline  as  a  painting  —  one  face  as 
much  as  five  feet  in  height. 

*  We    then     examined    the    Elgin 
marbles,  among   which   we  saw  the 
frieze  of   the  Parthenon,  statues  by 
Phidias,    immense    fragments    from 
the  Mausoleum   of   Mausolus.     You 
can  form  some  idea  of  the  statues  of 
that  structure  from  the  fact  that  my 
hand  out  flat  would  not   cover   one 
toe  of  a  woman's  foot  we  saw. 

*  In  the  Egyptian  Hall  we  saw   a 
granite  fist  as  large  as  a  hogshead ; 
the  head  of   Rameses    II,  nine   feet 
high ;     a   sarcophagus    supposed    to 
have   once    contained    the    body   of 
Alexander   the   Great ;   the   Rosetta 
Stone,  the  key  to  the  hieroglyphics ; 
multitudes   of    statues,    monuments, 
etc.     We  also  saw  in  another  room 
an    Egyptian    wig;     the    bones     of 
Mycerinus,    who     lived    a    hundred 
years  before  Abraham  ;  together  with 
an  immense  number  of   smaller   ob- 

40 


jects  like  those  in  the  Way  collec- 
tion in  Boston. 

'We  passed  through  rooms  contain- 
ing Assyrian  antiquities,  colossal  stat- 
ues of  human-headed  lions  and  bulls ; 
Egyptian  papyri  in  wonderful  preser- 
vation ;  vases  of  all  sizes  and  shapes  ; 
bronzes  ;  Greek  and  Roman  armor  ; 
bells  from  the  early  shrines  and 
churches  of  Ireland  (one  from  that 
of  St.  Senan,  who  died  in  554)  ; 
glass  from  the  earliest  period  up ; 
ancient  British  and  Saxon  relics. 
The  gem  room,  to  which  we  were 
admitted,  contained  the  famous  Port- 
land Vase,  thousands  of  the  most 
wonderful  cameos  and  gems,  speci- 
mens of  jewelry  from  Nineveh, 
Babylon,  Etruria,  and  other  ancient 
lands,  coins,  rings,  etc.  One  cameo 
head  of  Augustus  is  said  to  be  worth 
three  thousand  guineas.  The  Blacas 
collection  (a  small  part  of  the  con- 
tents of  the  room)  cost  forty-eight 
thousand  pounds. 

'  In  the  Library  we  saw  first  edi- 
tions of  Shakespeare,  Milton,  Dante, 
41 


Don  Quixote,  Walton,  Robinson 
Crusoe,  Common  Prayer ;  the  book 
that  gave  Henry  VIII  the  title  of 
Defender  of  the  Faith  ;  the  first 
printed  copy  of  the  Psalter,  1457  ; 
first  book  with  a  date;  first  Greek 
classic  printed ;  first  printed  Virgil, 
1501  ;  Horace,  printed  from  the 
smallest  type  ever  made;  first 
Chaucer,  1476  (Caxton)  ;  Fifteen 
O's  and  Other  Prayers,  1490  (Cax- 
ton) ;  The  Game  and  Playe  of  the 
Chesse,  1474  (Caxton)  ;  the  first 
book  ever  printed  in  England ;  the 
first  Bible  ever  printed,  1450  (a  de- 
fective copy  sold  at  auction  lately 
for  thirty-four  hundred  guineas)  ; 
the  Mazarin  Bible,  1455  ;  old  char- 
ters by  Ethelred,  Edgar,  Canute, 
Edward  the  Confessor,  Henry  I, 
Richard  I,  Odo  of  France,  and 
many  other  kings  or  dignitaries ; 
Codex  Alexandrinus,  fifth  century ; 
Genesis  and  Exodus,  464 ;  Bible 
written  by  command  of  Charlemagne, 
796-800;  Jewish  roll  of  the  Penta- 
teuch, fourteenth  century ;  many  of 
42 


the  most  elegantly  bound  books  and 
manuscripts,  the  covers  in  some  in- 
stances being  set  with  jewels.' 

The  next  day  after  describing  a 
number  of  historic  localities  visited, 
he  says  :  — 

'  We  then  walked  up  to  the  British 
Museum,  for  I  was  bound  to  see 
Shakespeare's  autograph,  which  we 
were  unable  to  see  yesterday.  By 
dint  of  inquiry  and  persistency  we 
succeeded  in  seeing  that  and  the 
original  Magna  Charta,  which  is  not 
usually  shown.  The  latter  was  nearly 
destroyed  in  a  fire  many  years  ago, 
but  was  carefully  flattened  out  and 
placed  under  glass.  The  seal  was 
an  irregular  mass  of  wax.  We 
also  saw  another  copy  made  at  the 
same  time  but  not  signed  by  the 
king. 

'  One  of  the  attendants  gave  me  a 
pass  to  the  Reading  Room,  an  im- 
mense dome  140  feet  in  diameter, 
larger  than  that  of  St.  Peter's  at 
Rome,  though  not  nearly  so  high. 
Having  satisfied  our  curiosity  here, 
43 


we  walked  home  well  pleased  with 
our  day's  work.' 

*  SALISBURY,  July  30,  1874. 

'  Immediately  after  breakfast  we 
had  a  barouche  and  span  ready  and 
started  for  Stonehenge.  Soon  we 
passed  Old  Sarum,  so  famous  as  a 
British,  Roman,  Saxon,  and  English 
stronghold,  and  often  referred  to  in 
the  great  Reform  struggle  of  1832,  as 
it  could  send  members  to  Parliament 
although  having  no  inhabitants.  Al- 
fred the  Great  built  part  of  the  forti- 
fications in  871  and  soon  after  fought 
a  great  battle  with  the  Danes  near 
by.  The  appearance  of  the  ruins  is 
very  striking,  being  quite  a  high  hill, 
the  sides  artificially  graded. 

'  After  riding  a  few  miles  we  came 
to  Salisbury  Plain,  over  which  we 
drove,  the  turf  being  so  smooth  and 
soft  that  the  wheels  made  no  noise, 
and  the  ground  so  level  that  one 
could  drive  in  any  direction  perfectly 
well.  This  country  is  chalk  forma- 
tion, and  everywhere  scattered 

44 


through  the  chalk  are  flint  nodules 
of  all  sizes  up  to  half  as  large  as  my 
head.  These  often  are  of  fantastic 
shapes,  like  bones,  and  when  scat- 
tered along  singly  or  in  small  heaps 
give  a  very  strange,  graveyard  ap- 
pearance to  the  country.  There 
were  great  numbers  of  little  blue 
bells  thick  with  blossom,  like  the 
bull-thistle,  but  not  on  a  stalk,  small 
white  convolvuli,  and  many  other 
flowers.  Here  and  there  we  saw 
fairy  rings,  of  all  sizes,  sometimes 
single  circles,  sometimes  intertwined. 
I  always  supposed  one  must  use  con- 
siderable imagination  in  distinguish- 
ing between  the  ring  and  the  sur- 
rounding grass,  but  here  the  contrast 
was  as  marked  as  between  green 
grass  and  ripe  oats.  I  had  often  read 
of  such  phenomena  in  Scott's  poems, 
but  had  never  seen  them  before.  As 
we  approached  our  destination  we 
passed  many  tumuli,  supposed  to  be 
ancient  graves,  some  standing  alone 
fifteen  or  twenty  feet  high  and  one 
or  two  hundred  feet  in  circumference, 
45 


others  surrounded  by  a  ditch  forming 
a  perfect  circle. 

'  We  could  see  the  Druidical  stones 
long  before  we  reached  them.  You 
can  form  no  idea  of  the  strange  im- 
pressiveness  of  these  old  monuments 
—  no  habitation  near,  only  a  vast 
plain  with  here  and  there  a  shepherd 
with  his  flock,  or  a  startled  hare  run- 
ning swiftly  away.  The  stones  are 
enormous,  far  surpassing  my  expec- 
tations. I  had  seen  the  size  stated 
in  books,  but  figures  could  give  no 
idea  of  their  vastness. 

*  After  spending  about  an  hour  here 
we  started  on  our  return,  by  another 
route  which  took  us  along  the  valley 
of  the  Avon,  through  a  most  lovely 
region.  The  air  was  filled  with  the 
song  of  larks,  which  were  as  common 
as  sparrows  and  robins  with  us. 
Now  and  then  one  would  rise  far  up 
into  the  clouds  and  then  suddenly 
drop  to  the  earth.  I  had  never  seen 
a  lark  before,  and  was  delighted  to 
see  them  so  abundant  and  so  tame, 
for  they  did  not  seem  alarmed  by  the 
46 


carriage,  but  kept  on  singing  even 
when  we  were  very  near.  Some  of 
the  farmhouses  with  thatched  roofs 
and  fresh  green  hedges  and  immense 
elms  seemed  like  the  pictures  of 
English  homes  I  have  often  seen. 
In  one  wall  I  noticed  splendid  fossils, 
ammonites,  a  foot  or  more  in  diam- 
eter. Just  before  reaching  home  we 
passed  the  site  of  the  old  Royal 
Tournament  ground,  one  of  the  five 
places  appointed  in  the  time  of 
Richard  I  for  such  exercise. 

'  Immediately  after  our  arrival  at 
the  hotel  we  walked  up  to  the  Close, 
which  includes  many  houses,  the 
Bishop's  Palace  with  its  gardens  of 
several  acres,  and  a  very  extensive 
green  about  the  cathedral  itself.  As 
the  door  was  open  we  went  into  the 
cathedral  and  were  taken  about  by 
the  verger,  who  was  very  intelligent 
and  satisfactory.  The  building  is 
the  most  beautiful,  and  most  nearly 
approaches  my  ideal  of  a  cathedral, 
of  any  we  have  seen,  not  even  ex- 
cepting York  and  Westminster.  The 
47 


spire  is  four  hundred  feet  high  and 
most  graceful  and  elegant,  the  carv- 
ings fresh  and  entire,  the  whole  per- 
fect. Within,  repairs  are  in  progress 
which,  when  complete,  will  make 
the  interior  exquisite.  The  Chapter 
House  is  entirely  restored  and  re- 
sembles those  of  York  and  West- 
minster, particularly  the  latter.  The 
cloisters  are  the  most  beautiful  we 
have  seen  and  in  the  center  are  two 
very  large  cedars  of  Lebanon. 

'We  afterwards  strolled  through 
the  Bishop's  Garden,  a  most  charm- 
ing place,  where  we  saw  some  mag- 
nificent trees  —  among  them  some 
very  large  cedars  of  Lebanon,  one  at 
least  two  and  a  half  feet  in  diameter. 
Just  as  we  left  the  cathedral  a  hard 
shower  came  up,  but  it  lasted  only 
about  ten  minutes,  when  the  sun 
came  out  and  the  greensward  around 
the  building  became  inexpressibly 
beautiful  in  the  bright  light,  relieved 
now  and  then  by  the  shadows  of 
grand  old  elms. 

'You  may  know  that  Old  Sarum  was 
48 


removed  to  a  lower  site,  the  present 
city  of  Salisbury,  and  we  were  in- 
terested in  seeing  numerous  carved 
stones  in  the  wall  around  the  Close, 
evidently  brought  from  the  old  city. 
*  This  was  our  last  day  in  England 
and  was  a  most  glorious  finale  to  our 
stay  on  the  snug  little  island.' 

'CHAMONIX,  August  13,  1874. 
1  Yesterday  morning  we  started  at 
seven  o'clock  from  Geneva  on  the 
diligence.  The  road  for  miles  ran 
through  scenery  not  very  unlike  that 
of  New  Hampshire,  the  houses  and 
villages,  however,  very  different. 
As  we  approached  the  mountains, 
the  country  changed  ;  instead  of  hills 
mountains  surrounded  us  on  every 
side,  often  we  were  completely  shut 
in,  precipices  on  all  hands.  We  fol- 
lowed the  valley  of  the  Arve  most  of 
the  way,  often  hundreds  of  feet  above 
it,  but  so  near  that  a  slight  toss 
would  send  a  stone  into  the  stream. 
At  St.  Martin's  we  stopped  for  lunch, 
and  had  directly  before  us  the  Mont 
49 


Blanc  range  of  snow-capped  summits. 
You  can  form  no  idea  from  words  or 
pictures  of  the  splendor  of  the  sight. 
The  day  was  one  of  the  most  perfect 
ever  created,  the  sun  bright  and 
warm,  and  the  reflection  from  the 
vast  fields  of  snow  utterly  indescrib- 
able. The  whiteness  was  such  that 
a  white  envelope  held  up  in  com- 
parison looked  gray  and  dingy. 

The  road  was  a  triumph  of  engi- 
neering, for  miles  and  miles  running 
along  the  sides  of  the  mountains, 
with  a  constant  and  uniform  ascent, 
cut  out  from  the  solid  rock  which 
towered  above  us  often  hundreds  of 
feet.  On  the  other  side  of  the  road 
the  descent  was  as  great.  We  were 
all  on  the  outside  of  the  coach  and 
could  look  directly  down,  perhaps  a 
thousand  feet,  to  the  Arve,  flowing 
in  its  rocky  channel  below.  In  one 
place  we  went  through  quite  a  long 
tunnel.  Towards  three  o'clock  we 
entered  Chamonix,  where  we  put  up 
at  the  Mont  Blanc  Pension.  From 
my  window  I  can  look  directly  out 
50 


upon  Mont  Blanc  and  half  a  dozen 
others  from  two  to  three  miles  high, 
all  glittering  in  their  robes  of  white. 
I  shall  not  attempt  description,  but, 
as  usual,  make  my  letter  a  journal  of 
my  adventures  and  wanderings.' 

From  the  second  series  of  letters  ; 
'CANTERBURY,  June  24,  1880. 

'  I  think  you  would  have  laughed 
to  see  me  to-night  at  the  Saracen's 
Head,  seated  at  a  table  —  before 
me  a  huge  piece  of  roast  beef  from 
which  I  cut  slices  from  time  to  time  ; 
a  mass  of  cheese  a  foot  square  ;  a 
loaf  of  bread  like  that  in  the  picture 
of  the  Cottager's  Daughter ;  a  mug 
of  beer  and  a  cup  of  tea  —  trying  my 
best  to  make  up  for  the  hardships 
and  famine  of  the  past  twelve  or 
thirteen  days  [the  voyage].  .  .  . 

'  Before  hunting  up  an  inn  I  wan- 
dered through  the  streets  of  this 
quaint  old  city,  looking  with  curiosity 
at  its  many  ancient  streets,  churches, 
and  houses.  A  great  many  of  the 
latter  have  projecting  stories  or  gable 
51 


ends,  entirely  unlike  anything  in  our 
country.  Just  after  leaving  the  sta- 
tion I  passed  through  the  only  re- 
maining gate  of  the  city,  looking  like 
some  ancient  castle,  and  just  by  it  was 
the  church  of  St.  Dunstan,  where 
Sir  Thomas  More's  head  is  buried, 
resting  upon  the  breast  of  his  daugh- 
ter Margaret.  You  may  remember 
Tennyson  alludes  to  her  in  his  Dream 
of  Fair  Women.  The  story  is  told 
in  the  Book  of  Golden  Deeds. 

*  By  chance  I  stumbled  upon  this 
queer    old    inn — perhaps    centuries 
old,  and  liked  its  appearance  so  well 
that  I  concluded  to  stay  over  night. 
The  cheer  placed  before  me,  you  al- 
ready know.     My   room    is    up    one 
flight,  huge  rough  beams  across  the 
ceiling,  pictures  upon  the  walls,  and 
handsome  furniture  —  evidently   the 
best  room. 

*  June  25.     I  arose  early  and  took 
a  long  walk  before  the  rest  of  the 
household  were  stirring.     You  know 
the  English  are  not  famous  for  early 
rising,  rarely  beginning  the  day  be- 

52 


fore  nine  o'clock.  After  wandering 
around  through  various  streets,  such 
as  Mercery,  where  the  pilgrims  used 
to  purchase  offerings,  indulgences, 
etc.,  I  came  to  St.  Martin's  Church, 
which  antiquaries  assign  to  the  sec- 
ond century.  It  may  not  be  so  old 
as  that,  but  at  least  it  is  centuries 
older  than  the  Cathedral,  as  its  ap- 
pearance plainly  shows,  the  material 
of  which  it  is  built  being  largely 
Roman  brick.  I  wish  I  could  depict 
to  you  its  beauty  and  make  you  see 
it  as  I  saw  it  this  morning.  There 
had  been  rain  in  the  night,  but  now 
the  sun  was  shining  and  everything 
sparkling  in  its  light.  The  grass  and 
foliage  seemed  even  greener  than 
English  green. 

1  The  church  stands  on  the  side  of 
St.  Martin's  Hill,  and  the  approach 
is  directly  up  the  steep  to  the  front, 
which  is  mainly  a  huge  square  tower 
covered  with  the  greenest,  glossiest 
ivy,  the  stems  of  which  have  united 
near  the  ground  into  a  solid  mass  of 
wood  at  least  three  feet  thick.  The 
"53 


door  is  very  small  and  on  each  side 
is  an  old  yew  tree.  The  ground 
around  is  a  burying  place  which  for 
its  size  has  more  beautiful  monu- 
ments than  any  other  cemetery  I 
know  of.  Most  of  them  are  recum- 
bent or  in  the  form  of  old  crosses 
with  quaint  carvings.  I  have  photo- 
graphs which  will  give  you  some 
idea  of  its  appearance. 

'  I  also  visited  Dane  John,  a  park 
containing  the  remains  of  the  old  city 
walls  and  an  artificial  mound  from 
which  there  is  a  fine  view  of  the  sur- 
rounding country,  and  then  hurried 
back  to  my  hotel,  where  I  had  a 
most  delicious  breakfast.' 

*  SALISBURY,  June  26,   1 880. 
'  Visitors  are  not  allowed  to  enter 
and    stroll   about  the  Cathedral    till 
after   morning   service,    which    lasts 
from  ten  to  eleven.     This  late  begin- 
ning of  sight-seeing  is  a  very  serious 
inconvenience  in  my  progress.     Our 
party  consisted  of  a  gentleman  and 
two  ladies,  who  were  in  great  haste 
54- 


to  catch  a  certain  train.  Their  haste 
spoiled  my  enjoyment,  and  so  after 
they  had  gone  I  purchased  a  guide- 
book from  the  verger,  and  in  consid- 
eration of  this  was  told  that  I  might 
take  my  time,  go  where  I  pleased, 
the  doors  of  the  choir  and  of  the 
cloisters  being  left  unlocked  for  my 
convenience.  I  was  glad  to  accept 
the  offer  and  stayed  for  an  hour  or 
more,  viewing  it  thoroughly  from  all 
points,  sitting  down  occasionally  and 
feasting  my  eyes.  I  could  hardly 
keep  back  the  tears  as  I  gazed. 
Nothing  so  beautiful,  so  grand,  and 
so  impressive  ever  met  my  eyes. 
Six  years  ago  it  was  in  process  of 
restoration,  all  except  the  nave  be- 
ing boarded  up.  Now  everything  is 
perfect,  clean,  bright,  and  glorious. 
I  don't  believe  there  is  any  building 
on  earth  more  beautiful  in  itself  and 
its  surroundings.' 

*  OXFORD,  June  28,  1880. 
*  After   securing    a    room    at    the 
Mitre    and   leaving   my   handbag,    I 
55 


took  my  Barton  Catalogue1  and 
started  for  the  Bodleian  Library. 
Here  I  was  received  very  cordially 
and  shown  through  the  library, 
through  room  after  room  of  manu- 
scripts to  which  the  public  are  not 
admitted  — thousands  and  thousands 
of  volumes  of  manuscripts  of  price- 
less value. 

1 1  afterwards  spent  some  hours  in 
strolling  through  the  various  col- 
leges, the  buildings,  the  quads,  the 
walks,  the  parks,  etc.  What  a  para- 
dise Magdalen  College  is,  with  its 
gardens,  park,  meadows,  deer,  Addi- 
son's  Walk  and  other  attractions  ! 

'  I  then  returned  to  the  hotel,  ate 
a  hearty  dinner,  read,  wrote  some 
postal  cards,  and  retired  at  about 
eight  o'clock,  strangely  fatigued  con- 
sidering the  little  work  I  had  done.' 

'June  29.  This  morning  I  awoke 
at  a  very  early  hour,  thoroughly 
rested,  and  ready  for  one  of  the 
most  glorious  days  in  my  eventful 

1  The  catalogue  of  the  Barton  Library  (see  p.  10),  a  copy 
of  which  he  took  as  a  gift  to  the  Bodleian. 

56 


career.  After  what  the  English 
would  call  an  early  breakfast,  I  took 
the  train  for  Warwick,  passing 
through  Banbury,  where  I  bought 
some  delicious,  freshly  baked  Ban- 
bury  cakes.  At  Warwick  I  was  un- 
able to  see  the  castle,  as  the  Earl 
was  at  home  and  would  allow  no  one 
to  visit  even  the  grounds. 

'  I  arranged  with  a  fly  (i.  e.,  car- 
riage) to  take  me  to  Coventry  and 
other  places.  We  drove  all  about 
Warwick,  visited  St.  Mary's  Church 
and  Beauchamp  Chapel,  saw  Leices- 
ter's Hospital,  and  then  drove  down 
to  the  bridge  over  the  Avon,  whence 
we  had  a  beautiful  view  of  the  castle. 
We  then  started  for  Coventry.  You 
have  probably  heard  of  the  two 
Englishmen  who  laid  a  wager  as  to 
the  most  beautiful  walk  in  England. 
Upon  comparing  notes  it  was  found 
that  one  had  named  the  road  from 
Coventry  to  Warwick,  the  other  that 
from  Warwick  to  Coventry.  I  agree 
perfectly  with  both. 

'  Imagine  a  broad  road  eight  or  ten 
57 


miles  long,  shaded  on  both  sides  with 
magnificent  elms  and  oaks  ;  a  hard, 
smooth  roadway  about  twenty-five 
feet  wide,  in  the  center,  and  at  one 
side,  beneath  the  shadow  of  these 
huge  trees,  a  footpath  from  three  to 
six  feet  wide,  carefully  graded  and 
graveled,  and  all  the  remaining 
space  between  the  trees  fresh  green- 
sward. That  is  the  road  we  drove 
over.  But  more  remains  to  tell. 

*  After  stopping  to  admire  Guy's 
Cliff,  I  was  advised  to  visit  Stone- 
leigh  Abbey.  This  was  in  ancient 
times  an  abbey  occupied  by  Cister- 
cian monks,  but  seized  by  Henry 
VIII  and  confiscated.  Much  of  the 
house  is  comparatively  modern,  in 
style  not  very  unlike  Chatsworth. 
Most  of  the  rooms  are  paneled  from 
floor  to  ceiling  with  old  oak.  It  is 
a  storehouse  of  interesting  portraits 
and  other  works  of  art.  I  saw  original 
portraits  of  Henry  VIII  and  Eliza- 
beth, both  by  Holbein  ;  of  Durer,  by 
himself ;  of  Byron ;  and  many  by 
Vandyke  and  Kneller.  The  park  is 
58 


immense  and  every  seven  years  is 
perambulated  by  a  large  party  of 
men  and  boys  to  fix  the  boundaries. 
The  circuit  is  over  thirty  and  less 
than  forty  miles.  Through  this  park 
we  drove  for  several  miles  before  we 
got  back  to  our  Coventry  turnpike. 
At  Kenilworth  I  stopped  and  saw 
the  ruins  of  the  castle.  We  drove 
all  about  Coventry,  so  that  I  have  a 
very  good  idea  of  that  interesting, 
dirty  old  city. 

'The  whole  drive  was  perfectly 
glorious — with  my  pen  I  can  give 
but  a  slight  idea  of  it.  The  only 
drawback  was  your  absence.  ...  At 
Coventry  I  took  cars  for  Rugby, 
where  I  was  obliged  to  wait  an  hour 
for  a  train  to  Leicester.  At  the 
latter  place  I  was  forced  to  wait  fifty 
minutes  for  a  train  to  Nottingham. 
Between  Nottingham  and  Lincoln  I 
had  a  capital  view  of  Newark  Castle, 
where  King  John  died  in  1216. 

'  At  Lincoln  I  stopped  at  the  Great 
Northern  Railway  Hotel.  Took  a 
short  walk  before  breakfast  and  after 
59 


breakfast  was  so  fortunate  as  to  find 
the  verger  ready  to  show  the  Cathe- 
dral before  the  morning  service. 
This  saved  me  a  delay  of  five  hours 
in  reaching  Boston.  The  hill  lead- 
ing up  to  the  Cathedral  is  the  steep- 
est I  ever  saw  in  any  city.  It  is  like 
going  up  stairs  with  stairs  left  out. 
At  a  little  shop  I  happened  to  see  a 
plate  of  old  coins  in  the  window. 
I  went  in,  looked  them  over,  and 
bought  a  lot  of  Roman  and  very  old 
English  coins,  silver  and  copper,  for 
a  few  pence  apiece.  Lincoln  was  a 
Roman  city,  and  in  digging  sewers 
old  coins,  mosaic  pavements,  etc., 
are  often  found.  .  .  .  Took  cars  for 
Boston,  passing  in  plain  sight  of  the 
castle  of  Tattershall,  erected  in  the 
fifteenth  century,  now  in  ruins,  but  a 
most  imposing  brick-work  tower. 

*  At  Boston  I  saw  the  old  church  in 
which  John  Cotton  preached,  and  on 
my  mentioning  the  letter  in  my 
charge  [in  the  Boston  Public  Library] 
from  Cotton  to  his  wife,  the  verger 
took  me  up  a  winding  stairway  in 
60 


one  of  the  little  towers,  to  a  room  to 
which  the  public  are  not  admitted, 
and  showed  me  the  old  registers  of 
marriage  signed  by  Cotton,  and  the 
record  of  Cotton's  own  marriage, 
also  old  manuscripts,  old  books  worth 
their  weight  in  gold,  and  other  curi- 
ous things.  The  registers  are  com- 
plete from  1 5  58  to  the  present  time  — 
a  very  unusual  circumstance.  I  had 
a  very  pleasant  time  at  a  little  house 
opposite  the  church,  where  the 
verger  lives  and  where  I  called  to 
look  at  photographs  which  I  saw  ex- 
hibited in  the  window.  The  woman 
who  waited  upon  me  was  a  very 
pleasant,  talkative  person.  It  was 
market  day,  and  such  a  hubbub  and 
noise  as  filled  the  market-place,  peo- 
ple shouting  the  merits  of  their 
wares,  Cheap-Jacks  in  full  blast,  just 
as  Professor  Churchill  represents  in 
Dr.  Marigold's  Prescription,  and 
other  strange  sights  and  sounds.' 

'  July  I.    At  Cambridge  I  made  for 
Trinity  College,  the   finest    English 
foundation    to    be    seen    anywhere. 
61 


Upon  entering  the  library  I  was  told 
that  strangers  were  not  admitted, 
but  when  I  presented  my  card,  was 
told  that  that  made  all  the  difference 
in  the  world.  The  librarian  was 
very  attentive  and  showed  me  about, 
pointing  out  the  rarities.  It  is  a 
beautiful  room,  or  hall,  and  contains 
a  very  valuable  collection  of  books. 

*  I  walked  about  a  good  deal, 
through  the  pleasure  grounds  along 
the  Cam,  the  quads  of  different  col- 
leges, to  the  University  Library, 
where  my  card  was  immediately  sent 
to  Mr.  Bradshaw,  the  Librarian,  who 
received  me  with  open  arms.  For 
an  hour  or  more  I  was  treated  with 
the  utmost  kindness,  and  when  I  left, 
Mr.  Bradshaw  accompanied  me  to 
the  lower  door.  You  see  it  is  some- 
thing to  be  a  professional.  Mr. 
Winsor  sent  me  a  most  flattering 
letter  of  introduction  to  one  of  the 
officers  in  the  British  Museum,  which 
I  have  not  yet  used.' 


62 


TRIBUTES. 


From  a  great  number  of  tributes,  public 
and  private,  all  of  which  were  most  grateful 
to  a  bereaved  family,  a  few  are  selected,  in 
order  to  show  that  in  the  various  relations  of 
life,  as  well  as  in  his  home,  Mr.  Knapp  was 
honored  and  loved. 

The  funeral  services,  held  in  Shawmut 
Church,  were  conducted  by  the  pastor,  Rev. 
William  E.  Barton,  D.D.,  assisted  by  Rev. 
James  DeNormandie,  D.D.,  representing  the 
Trustees  of  the  Public  Library,  and  by  Rev. 
S.  E.  Herrick,  D.D.,  a  family  friend.  The 
pall-bearers  were  Mr.  Herbert  Putnam,  Mr. 
James  L.  Whitney,  and  Mr.  Lindsay  Swift, 
representing  the  Library  staff;  and  Mr.  Frank 
Wood,  Mr.  Frederic  Hinckley,  and  Mr.  W.  A. 
Chapin,  representing  Shawmut  Church.  The 
large  attendance  of  men  and  women  from 
various  walks  in  life  testified  to  the  respect 
and  affection  in  which  he  was  held. 


ADDRESS  OF 
REV.  JAMES  DENORMANDIE,  D.D. 

The  work  of  a  great  Public  Library 
can  be  appreciated  only  by  those 
who  know  something  of  it.  You  see 
a  large  and  beautiful  building  shel- 
tering seven  or  eight  hundred  thou- 
sand volumes  ;  you  see  the  ceaseless 
procession  of  patrons  ;  you  see  the 
attendants  delivering  to  them  the 
books  ;  and  you  think  this  is  all,  and 
that  it  is  plain  and  easy.  Of  what  is 
done  before  the  public  can  be  served  ; 
of  the  vast  and  hidden  details  ;  of 
the  choice  and  cataloguing  and  ar- 
rangement of  books  ;  of  the  years 
of  careful  preparation  ;  of  the  co- 
operation, industry,  studied  and  un- 
broken attention  ;  of  the  promptness 
and  forbearance  ;  of  the  patience  and 
knowledge  and  alertness  required  to 
meet  the  daily  demands  of  thousands 
of  inquiring  minds  —  of  all  this  noth- 
ing is  known. 

64 


The  public  is  most  exacting  of  its 
servants,  and  feels  that  all  their  time 
and  strength  and  acquisitions  belong 
to  it  without  a  moment's  delay,  with- 
out any  manifestation  of  impatience 
or  weariness. 

To  have  been  for  nearly  a  quarter 
of  a  century  in  such  a  service  is  itself 
a  great  testimony  to  one's  worth, 
and  to  have  been  for  twenty  years 
the  trusted  head  of  one  of  the  lead- 
ing departments  of  the  Public  Library 
is  a  proof  of  merit  to  which  words 
can  add  very  little. 

The  accumulated  and  well-arranged 
learning  of  our  friend,  as  if  it  were 
all  in  a  multitude  of  familiar  drawers, 
was  freely  given  to  any  inquirer. 
Many  came  every  day  to  ask  not  only 
for  books,  but  to  know  what  books 
or  what  essays  had  been  written 
upon  every  subject  recent  or  ancient, 
plain  or  abstruse,  that  the  fertile 
mind  of  man  has  ever  thought  of  — 
and  here  was  one  who  seemed  to 
remember  all ;  whose  good  taste  and 
good  judgment  were  ever  ready  to 
65 


suggest  not  only  books,  which  is  a 
very  little  matter,  but  the  best  books, 
which  is  a  very  important  matter 
touching  the  higher  questions  of  life. 
So  that  his  daily  work  was  to  give  to 
hundreds  better  ideals  of  human  ac- 
tions and  human  character,  making 
his  mission  one  with  all  those  who 
in  every  form  of  teaching,  in  journal- 
ism, in  schools,  and  in  the  church 
are  helping  this  to  be  a  better 
world. 

What  knowledge,  what  gracious- 
ness,  what  a  ready  and  unfailing 
sympathy,  what  a  sense  of  humor, 
which  so  lightens  the  annoyances  of 
public  station,  what  a  spirit  of  self- 
denying,  what  faithfulness  marked 
his  daily  life. 

When  St.  Paul  would  express  the 
highest  merit  of  a  steward  he  says, 
"  It  is  required  that  a  man  be  found 
faithful";  and  when  Jesus  Christ 
would  set  the  seal  of  divine  favor  and 
divine  joy  upon  a  man's  work,  he 
told  the  beautiful  story  of  one  who 
was  faithful  to  his  talents,  his  gifts. 
66 


Servants  and  stewards  of  the  Most 
High,  all  of  us,  our  best  reward  is 
that  we  be  found  faithful.  Only 
faithful !  In  the  midst  of  so  much 
that  is  unfaithful,  in  the  midst  of  so 
many  noisy  activities  which  count  for 
nothing  and  end  in  nothing,  God 
grant  that  when  our  work,  like  his, 
is  done,  there  may  be  written  upon 
it  the  promise  of  Jesus,  "Thou  hast 
been  faithful  over  a  few  things,  I  will 
make  thee  ruler  over  many  things, 
enter  thou  into  the  joy  of  thy  Lord." 

We  know  it  cannot  be  otherwise, 
and  we  would  not  have  it  otherwise, 
but  the  heart  has  its  own  way  of 
looking  at  the  things  which  belong 
to  the  heart,  and  we  are  never  ready 
for  the  summons  which  calls  our 
loved  ones  away.  The  separation  is 
always  hard,  and  we  miss  the  familiar 
voice  and  the  loved  form,  and  the 
lonely  paths  are  the  sad  paths.  The 
heart  knows  its  own  bitterness,  and 
loves  to  dwell  upon  it.  We  see 
those  on  whom  our  hopes  are  cen- 
tered, whom  we  have  most  fondly 
67 


loved,  drop  away,  and  we  ask,  "  Are 
the  infinite  purposes  defeated,  or  are 
we  listening  only  to  an  unfinished 
tale,  to  be  told  out  elsewhere  ? "  It 
is  in  the  presence  of  death  that  we 
first  and  most  surely  believe  there  is 
no  death. 

What  this  loss  is  to  this  inner 
circle,  privileged  to  be  at  one  with 
him,  we  may  not  now  venture  to  say, 
but  they  will  be  grateful  as  long  as 
they  live  for  this  life,  and  they  know 
that  he  will  be  with  them  still  in  in- 
numerable sweet  and  precious  mem- 
ories of  gentle  companionship,  of 
daily  duty  and  sacrifice,  of  unfalter- 
ing devotion,  of  unbroken  love ;  in 
influences  which  belong  to  the  things 
which  are  unseen,  but  eternal. 

It  is  ever  the  story  of  old  ;  a  cloud 
has  received  him  out  of  our  sight. 
The  veil  of  the  future  is  never  lifted, 
but  because  it  is  not,  we  believe  it 
has  fallen  around  us  from  the  same 
Eternal  Goodness  which  makes  this 
life  so  dear  and  grateful. 


68 


What  to  us  is  shadow  to  him  is  day, 

And  the  way  he  knoweth, 
And  not  on  a  blind  and  aimless  way 
-  .;    The  spirit  goeth ; 

but  a  way  which  duty,  faith,  and  love 
make  straight  and  shining  to  the 
Eternal  Home. 


69 


ADDRESS  OF 
REV.  WM.  E.  BARTON,  D.D. 

The  custom  of  speaking  publicly 
of  our  friends  when  they  have  been 
taken  from  us  is  manifestly  decreas- 
ing, yet  it  is  one  which  I  shall  be 
sorry  to  see  wholly  given  up.  There 
are  so  many  lives  that  have  been 
little  known  that  deserve  a  tribute 
of  respect ;  there  are  so  many  other 
lives  that  have  been  such  examples 
of  conspicuous  faithfulness  that  it 
seems  inappropriate  that  they  should 
withdraw  and  no  friend  take  public 
note  of  their  departure ;  and  there 
are  other  lives  whose  lesson  is  so 
patent  that  we  only  need  to  stand  a 
moment  and  say,  "  Faithful  !  He  has 
been  faithful,  and  God  has  taken 
him,"  and  yet  we  want  to  say  so 
much  as  that  at  least. 

Dr.  DeNormandie  has  spoken  of 
the  fidelity  of  our  friend  in  that 
which  he  made  his  life  work.  Of 
70 


that  fidelity  Dr.  DeNormandie  has 
known  well.  In  this  quarter  of  a 
century  it  was  the  fortune  of  others 
to  know  him  here  in  this  church  and 
in  the  beauty  of  his  home  life.  Of 
that  home  life  I  may  not  speak ;  he 
was  always  the  model  son,  the  model 
brother ;  there  are  no  regrets  ;  there 
is  nothing  to  forgive.  That  home 
life  was  one  of  rare  beauty  and  sym- 
metry. Married  for  two  and  a  half 
years,  his  infant  son  and  his  young 
wife  were  taken  from  him  at  once ; 
and  that  sad  event  cast  a  shadow 
over  all  the  years  that  he  lived  after- 
ward —  so  sad  a  shadow  that  he 
rarely  mentioned  it,  even  to  those 
who  were  nearest  to  him.  Yet  he 
lived  a  cheerful  life,  an  unusually 
happy  life.  The  fidelity  which  those 
recognized  who  knew  him  in  his 
public  work  was  characteristic  of 
every  part  of  his  life.  Indeed,  I 
think  we  may  say  it  was  the  key  to 
an  interpretation  of  his  life.  He  was 
found  faithful. 

It  is  not  easy  for  us  to  analyze  the 
7* 


character  of  our  friends.  We  may 
do  that  with  strangers  and  those 
whom  we  have  known  at  a  distance, 
but  we  rarely  find  joy  in  doing  it 
with  those  who  live  nearest  to  us. 
In  the  half  a  dozen  years  that  I 
knew  Mr.  Knapp,  I  think  perhaps  I 
came  to  know  him  somewhat  un- 
usually well.  I  knew  him,  indeed,  in 
his  work  in  the  Library.  It  was  an 
inspiration  to  me,  coming  to  this  old 
city,  so  rich  in  its  historic  and  liter- 
ary associations,  to  have  him  spread 
out  before  me  in  the  Library  rare  old 
editions  and  ancient  manuscripts  and 
parchments,  about  which  I  had  read 
but  which  I  had  never  seen,  and 
some  of  them  literally  worth  their 
weight  in  gold  —  many  of  them 
worth  far  more  for  the  treasures 
which  they  contained.  It  was  a 
never-ceasing  inspiration  to  know 
him  in  that  way,  a  man  of  liberal 
education  and  intellectual  tastes. 
He  had  read  so  widely  and  di- 
gested what  he  knew  so  well,  and 
arranged  his  knowledge  so  as  to 
72 


make  it  so  readily  available,  that 
those  who  came  for  information, 
eager  themselves  for  knowledge 
but  many  of  them  knowing  little 
how  they  might  obtain  it,  always 
found  him  ready.  In  special  studies 
which  I  found  time  to  pursue,  he 
was  my  most  faithful  and  helpful 
friend. 

But  it  was  in  other  relations  that 
I  knew  him  best.  In  this  church  he 
was  a  consistent,  regular  attendant, 
a  member  whose  interest  extended 
to  the  whole  work  and  prosperity  of 
the  church.  He  was  a  man  of  sin- 
cere and  simple  faith,  a  man  who 
worshiped  God  in  the  beauty  of  holi- 
ness. He  was  a  man  whose  intellec- 
tual nature  had  not  swallowed  up  his 
spiritual  life,  he  was  a  man  who  in 
his  own  secret  heart  lived  near  to 
God.  He  was  not  an  ostentatious 
man,  and  he  would  have  been  the 
last  to  wish  to-day  for  fulsome  praise. 
The  words  which  are  spoken  of  him 
are  the  simple  facts  about  him, 
which  are  more  eloquent  than  any 
73 


studied  words  of  careful  eulogy  or  of 
extravagant  praise. 

He  delighted  in  the  service  of 
God.  He  never  sought  official  posi- 
tions ;  when  this  church  pressed 
upon  him  offices,  in  his  modesty  he 
shrank  from  them  and  declined  them. 
Yet  even  so  modest  a  man  as  he 
could  not  live  in  a  church  all  these 
years  without  being  known  for  his 
true  worth,  and  those  who  knew  and 
honored  him  here  are  saddened, 
every  one,  by  his  departure.  Of 
him  I  think  may  be  said  that  rare, 
rich  thing,  that  all  who  knew  him 
honored  him,  and  all  who  knew  him 
well  loved  him  ;  and  those  who  to-day 
speak  these  words,  which  are  meant 
to  be  words  of  comfort,  might,  in 
their  own  thought,  more  fitly  take 
their  pla'ce  among  those  who  need  to 
be  comforted. 

Death  is  the  one  great  fact  in 
human  life  to  which  we  refuse  to 
adjust  our  thought.  We  know  that 
we  must  die ;  we  know  nothing  so 
certain  as  death  ;  yet  it  comes  to  us 
74 


with  a  surprise.  We  count  it  an  in- 
trusion, a  sort  of  impertinence,  and 
we  are  never  quite  prepared  for  it. 
It  seems  to  us  an  incongruity,  an 
inconsistency ;  and  our  persistent 
refusal  to  accommodate  ourselves  to 
it,  our  yearning  for  something  more, 
our  insistence  that  what  seems  the 
end  cannot  be  the  end,  is  the  high- 
est tribute  which  the  mind  of  man 
has  ever  paid  to  the  dignity  and  the 
beauty  of  life  and  its  continued 
desirability ;  and  that  we  can  suffer 
as  we  sometimes  suffer  in  the  loss  of 
those  who  are  taken  from  us  is  the 
richest  tribute  which  God  enables 
any  human  heart  to  place  upon  the 
bier  of  friendship  and  of  love.  We 
need  the  words  and  the  hopes  of  the 
Gospel.  We  need  to  strengthen  our 
faith  with  all  our  knowledge  of  the 
dignity  and  the  worthiness  of  human 
life.  We  need  the  inspiration  and 
the  certitude  of  the  Gospel  of  Jesus 
Christ,  and  the  truth  that  in  his 
resurrection,  his  newness  of  life, 
there  is  hope  for  all  who  sleep  in 
75 


him.  In  him  we  may  learn  to  inter- 
pret death  anew,  even  as  we  have 
learned  already  in  part  the  larger 
meaning  of  death  in  the  world  with- 
out us. 

I  remember  how  the  day  died  and 
how  the  sun  went  down  and  left  the 
earth  in  darkness,  and  had  I  seen  it 
only  once  I  should  have  thought  that 
that  was  the  end  ;  but  I  remember 
that  even  as  the  sun  sank  to  its 
grave  the  west  grew  glorious  with 
colors  more  splendid  than  those  of 
the  noontide ;  and  even  as  I  look 
and  peer  into  the  darkness,  there 
shines  about  me  the  gray  and  then 
the  red  and  then  all  the  golden,  glo- 
rious luster  of  the  dawn.  And  I 
remember  how  the  year  died,  how 
the  leaves  fell  one  by  one,  and  were 
hurried  along  by  the  keen  cold  blast ; 
I  remember  how  the  heavens  put  on 
their  mourning  robes  of  cloud,  and 
wept  their  tears  over  the  great  dead 
world,  and  then  gently  covered  it  in 
its  shroud  of  snow ;  and  had  I  seen 
it  only  once  I  should  have  thought 
76 


that  that  must  be  the  end.  Yet 
never  a  leaf  fell  from  the  tree  but 
left  beneath  it  the  bud  of  a  larger 
life  ;  and  never  a  winter  came  but 
the  autumn  grew  glorious  in  all  the 
colors  of  the  rainbow,  which  were 
not  painted  by  the  utility  of  nature, 
but  grew  out  of  the  abundant  hope 
which  is  God's  promise  of  another 
year  when  earth  shall  rise  from  win- 
ter and  live  in  the  glory  of  the 
spring.  And  so  I  remember  how  my 
friend  died,  and  slipped  away  when 
the  arms  of  love  were  not  long 
enough  or  strong  enough  to  hold 
him,  and  how  there  was  borne  out 
from  our  home  the  sacred  dust  which 
still  looked  as  he  had  looked,  and 
reminded  us  of  every  gracious  act  and 
kindly  word  ;  and  I  have  seen  it  but 
a  few  times,  and  so  at  first  it  seems 
to  me  that  this  is  the  end  ;  but  I 
comfort  myself  with  the  promise  and 
hope  of  him  to  whom  the  mysteries 
of  this  life  and  the  next  were  clear, 
who  himself  tasted  death  for  every 
man,  and  who  rose  triumphant  from 
77 


the  dead,  leading  captivity  captive, 
that  we  might  say,  "  O  death,  where 
is  thy  sting  ?  O  grave,  where  is  thy 
victory  ? "  Wherefore  let  us  com- 
fort one  another  with  these  words  of 
the  Blessed  Saviour  and  of  those  to 
whom  he  gave  wisdom  for  our  pres- 
ent comfort. 


78 


TRIBUTE  OF  His  CLASS. 

At  a  meeting  of  the  class  of  186^,  of  Harvard 
College,  held  on  Commencement  Day,  June  28, 
1899,  the  following  tribute,  offered  by  Mr. 
Thomas  B.  Peck,  was  adopted  and  placed  on 
record  :  — 

Arthur  Mason  Knapp  died  at  his 
home  in  Boston,  December  27,  1898, 
after  a  brief  but  painful  illness,  of 
paralysis.  He  had  been  engaged  in 
his  usual  employment  in  the  Boston 
Public  Library  up  to  the  time  of  his 
illness,  and  although  somewhat  deli- 
cate in  physique,  is  believed  to  have 
been  usually  in  possession  of  good 
health.  From  his  boyhood  onward 
he  had  been  remarkable  for  his  love 
of  literature.  At  the  Boston  Latin 
School,  where  he  was  prepared  for 
college,  he  stood  easily  at  the  head 
of  a  class  which  contained  a  large 
number  of  good  scholars.  Some- 
what older  and  therefore  more  ma- 
ture in  mind  than  most  of  his 
79 


classmates,  he  was  enabled  by  his 
industry,  his  clearness  of  mind  and 
his  remarkable  memory  to  hold  his 
leadership,  and  did  so  with  such 
unassuming  modesty  as  never  to 
excite  a  feeling  of  jealousy  among 
his  classmates.  He  held  a  high 
rank  for  scholarship  during  his  col- 
lege course,  in  which  he  showed 
the  same  capacity  and  devotion  to 
study  as  in  his  school  days.  His 
intellect  was  sound  rather  than  bril- 
liant. While  he  won  the  respect  of 
the  class  by  his  sterling  traits  of 
character,  his  retiring  disposition 
and  the  fact  that  he  made  his  home 
with  his  parents  in  Boston  and  spent 
the  working  hours  of  the  week  only 
in  Cambridge  prevented  him  from 
becoming  as  well  known  in  the  class 
socially  as  would  otherwise  have 
been  the  case. 

To  an  unusual  degree  Knapp's  life 
was  spent  in  a  congenial  atmosphere 
of  books  and  study.  After  gradu- 
ation he  adopted  the  profession  of 
teaching,  and  taught  in  the  Phillips 
80 


Academy  in  Andover  and  in  the 
Brookline  High  School,  until  in  Janu- 
ary, 1875,  ne  entered  the  service  of 
the  Boston  Public  Library.  After 
serving  for  about  three  years  as 
Curator  of  Pamphlets  and  Periodicals 
and  Keeper  of  the  Prince  and  Barton 
Libraries,  and  during  this  time  pre- 
paring, in  connection  with  Mr.  J.  M. 
Hubbard,  a  Shakespearian  Catalogue 
which  was  highly  commended,  he 
was  appointed  Librarian  of  Bates 
Hall,  and  held  this  responsible  posi- 
tion until  his  last  illness,  a  period  of 
more  than  twenty  years.  Here  he 
found  his  life  work,  and  in  this  em- 
ployment his  life  was  spent  happily 
and  in  the  highest  sense  of  the  word 
successfully.  His  life  must  have 
been  happy,  because  his  modest  am- 
bitions were  satisfied,  his  tasks  were 
such  as  were  best  suited  to  his  tastes 
and  talents,  and  he  must  have 
enjoyed  the  consciousness  that  he 
had  won  the  esteem  and  friendship 
of  those  with  whom  he  was  brought 
into  pleasant  relations  in  the  per- 
81 


formance  of  his  daily  duties.  His 
life  was  truly  successful,  because  it 
was  spent  in  a  constant  succession 
of  acts  of  service  to  others,  and  in 
rendering  these  services,  his  own 
stores  of  knowledge  were  increased, 
his  mind  was  expanded  and  strength- 
ened, and  his  character  became  riper 
and  sweeter.  Although  he  lived 
among  books,  he  was  in  no  sense  a 
recluse.  It  was  his  duty  as  Librarian 
of  Bates  Hall  to  place  his  knowledge 
of  the  treasures  of  the  Library  at  the 
disposal  of  every  applicant  needing 
his  help  or  guidance,  and  it  was  said 
that  "  almost  no  other  individual  in 
the  city  was  in  personal  contact  with 
so  many  people  as  was  Mr.  Knapp." 
In  this  trying  position  his  patience 
and  courtesy  never  failed,  and  so 
retentive  was  his  memory,  so  thor- 
ough his  acquaintance  with  the  con- 
tents of  the  Library,  and  so  general 
and  exact  his  knowledge  upon  a  vast 
variety  of  subjects,  that  he  rarely 
failed  to  supply  the  information 
needed.  The  many  tributes  which 
82 


appeared  in  the  press  after  his  death 
uniformly  testified  to  the  admirable 
manner  in  which  his  duties  were  per- 
formed and  to  the  spirit  of  Christian 
courtesy  which  he  displayed  to  per- 
sons of  all  characters,  often  under 
circumstances  which  must  have  been 
very  trying  to  his  equanimity.  These 
tributes  also  show  how  widely  he  was 
known  as  a  scholar  and  as  an  accom- 
plished librarian,  and  how  universally 
he  was  esteemed  and  admired  by  the 
many  frequenters  of  the  Library. 

His  faithfulness  to  his  duties  was 
unswerving,  while  the  most  hasty 
visitor  could  not  fail  to  note  that  the 
Library  in  which  he  was  so  impor- 
tant a  factor,  was  his  pride  and  de- 
light. His  record  is  one  of  a  life 
well  spent  in  useful  and  honorable 
work,  of  fidelity  to  principle,  and  of 
native  talents  developed  and  strength- 
ened by  cultivation  and  worthy  use. 
We,  his  classmates,  shall  miss  him 
on  our  visits  to  the  Public  Library, 
at  Commencements,  which  he  fre- 
quently attended,  and  in  the  social 
83 


gatherings  of  the  class,  while  to  his 
associates  in  his  work  and  to  the 
many  students  who  looked  to  him 
for  advice  and  assistance,  the  loss  is 
almost  irreparable. 


84 


EXTRACTS   FROM  OFFICIAL  DOCU- 
MENTS OF  THE  BOSTON 
PUBLIC  LIBRARY. 


From  the  Annual  Report  of  the  Trustees,  February 


The  Library  has  suffered  by  the 
deaths  and  resignations  of  some  of 
those  employed  in  its  service. 

The  most  conspicuous  loss  was 
occasioned  by  the  death  of  Mr. 
Arthur  Mason  Knapp,  who  was 
twenty-four  years  in  its  service,  and 
for  twenty  years  the  Custodian  of 
Bates  Hall.  His  experience,  ability, 
and  fidelity  were  universally  acknowl- 
edged, and  possessed  an  added  charm 
by  reason  of  his  agreeable  personal 
traits. 

From  the  Librarian's  Annual  Report,  February  /, 
7(?99,  signed  Herbert  Putnam:  — 

The    Library  has  suffered  serious 
loss  by  death.     Most  serious  indeed 
was    the     loss     of     Arthur     Mason 
85 


Knapp,  for  twenty-four  years  in  its 
service,  and  for  the  last  twenty  years 
its  chief  reference  librarian  as  Cus- 
todian of  Bates  Hall.  Mr.  Knapp's 
accumulated  experience  in  the  work 
of  this  position,  to  which  he  devoted 
himself  with  absolute  concentration, 
stood  for  an  asset  of  exceeding  value. 
Rather  than  minute  here  too  briefly 
the  record  of  his  career  and  service, 
I  append  to  be  printed  the  notice 
published  in  the  Bulletin  after  his 
death,  and  passages  from  the  address 
of  the  Rev.  Dr.  James  DeNormandie 
(who  as  a  member  of  the  Library 
Board  spoke  with  particular  knowl- 
edge) at  the  funeral  services. 

From  the  Monthly  Bulletin,  January,  i8gg  : — 

ARTHUR  MASON  KNAPP. 
1839-1898. 

On  Tuesday,  December  27,  1898, 
died  Arthur  Mason  Knapp,  Custodian 
of  Bates  Hall  in  the  Boston  Public 
Library. 

He  was  born  at  St.  Johnsbury, 
86 


Vermont,  August  8,  1839,  the  son  of 
Hiram  Knapp  and  Sophronia  Brown. 
During  his  boyhood  the  family  re- 
moved to  Boston,  where  he  fitted  for 
college  at  the  Boston  Latin  School. 
He  was  graduated  as  the  first  scholar 
in  his  class,  and  entered  Harvard 
College  as  a  member  of  the  class  of 
1863.  He  held  from  Harvard  the 
degree  of  A.M.  as  well  as  that  of 
A.B. 

After  teaching  for  some  years  in 
Phillips  Academy,  Andover,  in  the 
Boston  Latin  School,  and  in  the 
Brookline  High  School,  he  entered 
the  service  of  the  Library  January 
23,  1875.  His  first  appointment  was 
to  the  charge  of  the  special  collec- 
tions of  the  Library ;  from  1878 
until  his  death  he  held  the  position 
of  Custodian  of  Bates  Hall. 

His  knowledge  of  Shakespeariana 
and  of  Elizabethan  literature  was  of 
great  value  in  the  preparation  of  the 
catalogue  of  the  Barton  collection. 
In  his  position  in  charge  of  the  main 
reference  department  of  the  Library, 

87 


his  special  knowledge  of  the  subject 
of  genealogy  and  local  history,  as 
well  as  a  thorough  general  knowl- 
edge of  the  resources  of  the  Library 
on  all  subjects,  was  of  the  greatest 
service  to  an  immense  constituency 
of  readers.  To  the  value  of  this 
service,  rendered  with  exact  con- 
scientiousness and  singleness  of  pur- 
pose in  its  relation  to  his  colleagues, 
and  with  assiduity  and  personal  in- 
terest towards  the  readers  and  stu- 
dents who  came  to  him  for  assistance, 
the  warm  appreciation  of  all  those 
with  whom  he  came  in  contact  bears 
witness. 


88 


EXTRACTS  FROM  PERSONAL  LETTERS 

Relating  to  His  Work  as  Librarian 
and  as  Teacher. 


"  To  me  it  was  a  delight  to  deal 
with  a  librarian  who  never  offered 
his  views  or  preferences  to  my  stud- 
ies, who  permitted  me  always  to 
brush  conventional  books  aside,  and 
quickly  understood  the  pursuit  of 
sound  evidence.  He  had  no  fads. 
He  could  laugh  at  the  credulity  of 
genealogists,  whose  books  he  knew 
better  than  most  librarians.  He  was 
a  good  American  and  New  Eng- 
lander,  yet  not  parochial.  I  have  no 
doubt  that  he  was  profoundly  reli- 
gious, as  no  man  would  have  the 
truthfulness,  the  courage,  the  mod- 
esty, the  patient  service  of  others, 
the  unselfishness,  that  marked  him, 
but  a  mind  steeped  in  devoutness 
and  sustained  by  faith." 

"We  shall  never  go  to  the  Library 
89 


without  a  thought  of  him.  He  was 
so  invariably  kind  and  patient  and  so 
helpful  that  no  one  can  ever  take 
just  his  place." 

"  In  all  the  professional  work  I 
tried  to  do  in  Boston,  I  was  helped 
more  by  him  to  find  what  I  needed 
than  by  any  one  else  ;  and  for  that 
assistance,  rendered  in  his  own 
quiet  way,  I  have  always  been  very 
grateful." 

"  I  am  but  one  among  the  many 
who  have  grateful,  loving  thoughts 
for  courtesy  and  help  and  kindness, 
always  so  freely  bestowed,  from  my 
early  Latin  School  days  on  through 
college  and  master's  degree  work." 

"  Mr.  Knapp's  going  out  from  his 
field  of  work  affected  me  —  to  him  a 
stranger  —  very  deeply,  so  valuable 
had  been  his  assistance  to  me  from 
time  to  time,  so  gentle  and  patient 
and  kindly  was  he  with  every  bother- 
ing request.  I  never  felt  at  home  in 
90 


Bates  Hall  till  he  took  the  chair  in 
the  new  building,  within  the  reach  of 
every  one  —  the  scholar  and  the 
gentleman  —  to  unlock  those  stores 
of  learning.  How  deep  my  debt  to 
him  !  How  gracious  his  memory !  " 

From  a  letter  addressed  to  Mr.  George  B.  Knapp,  by 
Rev.  Ed-ward  T.  Fairbanks,  D.D.,  of  St.  Johns- 
bury,  Vt.:  — 

I  think  of  the  happy  morning 
when  you  and  I  stood  in  the  gallery 
of  Bates  Hall  and  saw  him  going 
down  with  the  books  to  Miss  T. 
It  is  delightful  to  have  that  Hall  and 
Public  Library  linked  in  my  thought 
with  the  little  fellow  whose  young 
life  in  Fairbanks  Village  rounded  up 
into  so  much  dignity  and  responsi- 
bility in  one  of  the  great  city  insti- 
tutions. I  think  it  was  a  good 
providence  that  brought  Arthur 
Knapp,  notwithstanding  his  modest 
and  retiring  disposition,  up  into  the 
place  where  his  excelling  worth  and 
abilities  could  find  scope  and  become 
appreciated.  His  life  seems  to  me 
91 


rare  and  beautiful.  We  had  a  short, 
happy  call  from  him  when  he  was 
last  here.  I  always  expected  to  see 
him  sometime  during  the  summer  or 
fall  as  surely  as  I  expected  the  corn 
to  tassel  or  the  maple  orchards  to 
hang  out  their  red  banners.  These 
hills  and  groves  were  a  fresh  joy  to 
him  every  time  he  came.  Dear  fel- 
low !  He  was  lovable  and  goodly, 
strong  and  true.  It  pains  me  to 
think  of  you  with  Arthur  no  more  at 
your  side.  Your  tastes  and  his  were 
almost  identical,  and  I  know  you 
each  appreciated  that  double  kinship. 
And,  in  fact,  will  right  along.  It  is 
a  blessed  fact  that  traits,  and  loves, 
are  not  changed  by  this  translation. 
And  one  day  the  threads  will  be 
gathered  up  again  and  minds  and 
hearts  go  on  together  as  aforetime  — 
together  up  higher  paths. 

From  Prof.  Benjamin  IV.  Wells,  of  the  University  of 
the  South,  at  Sewanee,  Tenn. : — 

I  was  both  a  public  and  a  private 
pupil  of  your  brother,  and  was  very 
92 


much  attached  to  him  in  my  boy- 
hood, and  he  has  ever  since  been 
connected  with  the  pleasantest  mem- 
ories of  my  school  life. 

I  recall  particularly  his  teaching 
in  Latin  and  in  physics.  There  was 
a  little  air  of  gloom  about  his  room 
[in  the  old  Brookline  High  School], 
especially  as  compared  with  Miss 
Bartlett's  beyond,  but  we  found  little 
time  to  think  of  that  when  his  teach- 
ing once  began. 

Mr.  Knapp  was  an  excellent 
teacher,  careful,  precise,  rather  strict, 
and  inflexibly  just.  [Here  follows 
the  story  of  an  attempted  annoyance, 
which  the  teacher  bore  with  such 
unruffled  temper  that  the  pupils  were 
shamed  into  propriety.] 

I  think  what  impressed  us  all 
most  in  Mr.  Knapp  was  his  genuine 
interest  in  us,  as  school  boys  and 
girls,  and  afterwards.  He  never  for- 
got one  of  his  pupils.  I  have  often 
asked  him  in  later  years  about  old 
school  acquaintances  who  to  me  were 
only  names.  He  seemed  to  have 
93 


followed  them  all  with  affectionate 
solicitude,  and  I  am  sure  they  all 
could  count  on  his  sympathy  in  every 
success  and  disappointment. 

From  Miss  Marion  McGregor  Noyes,  Instructor  in 
Philosophy  in  Colorado  College :  — 

My  sense  of  personal  loss  in  the 
death  of  your  brother  is  very  great. 
For  many  years  I  have  depended 
upon  his  friendship  and  interest,  and 
in  returning  to  Boston  have  sought 
him  out  in  the  Library,  sure  of  such 
a  welcome  as  dwells  ever  in  one's 
memory.  .  .  . 

I  find  it  difficult  to  describe  the 
unusual  element  in  Mr.  Knapp's 
teaching  —  for  unusual  it  was.  Per- 
haps were  I  to  say  that  we  felt  that 
we  were  each  two  persons  to  him, 
this  would  in  some  degree  express 
my  meaning.  He  valued  faithful 
work  and  accurate  scholarship  very 
highly,  and  there  was  great  satisfac- 
tion in  winning  his  word  of  com- 
mendation. But  we  knew  that  he 
was  so  much  interested  in  us  person- 
ally, that  even  if  we  were  indifferent 

94 


or  lazy,  he  would  have  patience  with 
us  and  would  continue  to  like  us  (pro- 
vided, of  course,  we  had  once  won 
his  esteem).  He  made  us  all  feel 
his  interest  in  us  and  his  ambition 
for  us.  And  yet  I  cannot  recall  that 
he  ever  expressed  any  such  senti- 
ments in  words.  It  was  all  given  in 
that  subtle,  quiet  way  which  made  his 
personal  relations  so  unique.  .  .  . 

We  were  fond  of  spending  our 
recess  with  him,  and  his  desk  was 
generally  surrounded  at  this  time. 
His  reserve  was  so  great  that  we  felt 
it  a  rare  privilege  when  he  opened  to 
us  the  treasure  house  of  his  mind, 
as  he  was  always  ready  to  do  when 
he  found  us  ready  to  listen.  In 
short,  we  honored  him  and  loved  him. 

He  was  at  one  time  suffering 
much  from  lameness,  being  obliged 
to  use  crutches.  His  patience  under 
very  evident  suffering  impressed  us 
deeply.  It  was  my  privilege  to  walk 
with  him  from  the  horse-car  to  the 
school  quite  often,  and  I  used  to 
enjoy  these  times  very  greatly.  He 
95 


would  talk  about  his  interests  or 
ours,  as  the  case  might  be,  but 
always  with  an  alertness  of  mind 
and  of  sympathy  which  has  not  been 
forgotten,  I  am  sure,  by  any  of  those 
pupils  who  could  then,  or  later,  count 
themselves  as  among  his  friends. 

His  sense  of  humor  we  always 
counted  upon,  and  we  watched  for 
the  smile,  which  he  tried  in  vain  to 
conceal,  when  one  in  our  class  who 
had  the  gift  of  being  very  amusing 
—  albeit  not  always  at  the  right 
time  —  was  exerting  his  powers.  It 
was  difficult  for  Mr.  Knapp  to  be 
severe  under  these  circumstances, 
and  we  knew  it. 

He  taught  us  to  reverence  a  high 
standard  of  work.  I  think  that, 
more  than  any  teacher  I  have  ever 
had,  he  taught  us  the  meaning  of  the 
word  faithfulness — not  only  to  a 
high  ideal,  but  to  our  own  native 
powers,  whether  great  or  little. 
This  and  his  unfailing  and  sponta- 
neous courtesy  seemed  to  me  the 
central  points  in  his  character. 
96 


TRIBUTES  FROM  THE  PRESS. 


From  the  Boston  Herald:  — 

Arthur  Mason  Knapp,  for  twenty 
years  Librarian  of  Bates  Hall,  in  the 
Boston  Public  Library,  and  in  charge 
during  that  period  of  the  main  card 
catalogue,  died  Tuesday  at  his  home, 
52  Montgomery  Street.  He  was 
stricken  with  paralysis  early  in  the 
month. 

He  was  a  graduate  of  Harvard, 
class  of  '63,  and  was  a  classmate  of 
the  late  ex-Governor  Greenhalge, 
John  Fiske,  the  historian  ;  ex-Secre- 
tary of  the  Treasury,  C.  S.  Fairchild, 
and  F.  L.  Higginson.  He  was  born 
in  St.  Johnsbury,  Vt.,  August  8, 
1839,  and  prepared  for  college  in  the 
Boston  Latin  School.  After  leaving 
Harvard  he  taught  the  classics  and 
mathematics  at  Phillips  Andover 
Academy  and  at  the  Brookline  High 
School. 

97 


On  January  23,  1875,  he  joined 
the  Public  Library  staff,  at  first  as 
Curator  of  Periodicals  and  Pam- 
phlets, beside  what  are  called  the 
"  cabinet "  books  in  the  Barton  and 
Prince  Libraries  —  large  folios  in 
curious  and  rare  bindings,  dear  to 
the  bibliophile.  He  catalogued  the 
Barton  Library  of  Shakespeariana, 
and  acquired  in  the  work  a  taste  for 
research  in  Shakespeare's  doings 
that  endured  to  his  death.  He  was 
married  in  1873  to  Miss  Abbie  Bart- 
lett,  who  died  in  1876. 

In  1878  he  was  placed  in  charge 
of  Bates  Hall,  and  became  probably 
the  best  known  personage  to  the 
general  public  around  the  Library. 
He  was  a  target  for  all  sorts  of  ques- 
tions on  every  conceivable  subject, 
and  was  rarely  at  loss  for  a  satisfac- 
tory response.  He  united  a  patient 
and  courteous  manner,  a  gift  for 
research  and  a  knowledge  of  the  re- 
sources of  the  great  library,  that 
made  him  an  invaluable  aid  to  the 
student  anxious  to  explore  its  riches. 
98 


His  place  developed  a  unique  variety 
of  talent,  which  could  perhaps  be 
generalized  as  a  knowledge  of  books, 
though  he  sedulously  avoided  a 
desultory  habit  by  thoroughly  work- 
ing up  a  few  specialties.  He  be- 
came a  profound  student  of  early 
Elizabethan  literature,  largely  as  one 
result  of  his  studies  in  Shakespeare. 
He  had  always  kept  up  in  genealogy 
long  before  it  had  attained  its  pres- 
ent vogue,  and  was  one  of  the  recog- 
nized authorities  in  that  curious  field 
of  research. 

Aside  from  these  subjects,  he  had 
of  necessity  some  sort  of  informa- 
tion in  almost  every  branch  of 
knowledge,  and  in  very  many  had  a 
great  deal,  the  countless  questions 
showered  upon  him  in  his  daily  work 
compelling  a  delving  in  both  familiar 
and  out-of-the-way  lines.  Authors 
working  up  a  "  period "  in  their 
work,  students  looking  for  a  clew  to 
the  latest  in  their  branches,  stage 
people  seeking  points  on  costume, 
artists  searching  for  historical  "  mo- 
99 


tifs,"  are  samples  of  the  varied  sort 
of  people  he  had  to  meet,  all  of 
whom  were  set  agoing  satisfactorily, 
and,  if  time  served,  were  often  buried 
in  an  embarrassment  of  riches. 

The  funeral  services  will  be  held 
at  two  o'clock  to-morrow  afternoon 
at  the  Shawmut  Church,  corner  of 
Tremont  and  West  Brookline 
Streets. 

From  the  Boston  Evening  Transcript :  — 

Mr.  Arthur  Mason  Knapp,  Custo- 
dian of  Bates  Hall  of  the  Boston 
Public  Library,  died  at  his  home 
Tuesday  afternoon  after  a  short  ill- 
ness. These  tidings  will  bring  sor- 
row to  many  who  have  known  him 
or  sought  his  help  at  the  Library. 
Mr.  Knapp,  the  son  of  Hiram  and 
Sophronia  (Brown)  Knapp,  was  born 
at  St.  Johnsbury,  Vt.,  August  8,  1839. 
During  his  boyhood  his  family  re- 
moved to  Boston,  where  he  fitted  for 
college  at  the  Boston  Latin  School. 
He  was  graduated  from  there  as  the 
first  scholar  in  his  class  and  entered 

100 


Harvard  College  as  a  member  of  the 
class  of  1863.  He  held  from  Har- 
vard the  degree  of  A.M.  as  well  as 
that  of  A.B. 

After  a  few  years  spent  in  teaching 
in  Phillips  (Andover)  Academy  and 
the  Brookline  High  School  he  en- 
tered the  service  of  the  Boston  Public 
Library  January  23,  1875.  He  was  at 
first  placed  in  charge  of  the  special 
collections  of  „ the  Library,  and  later 
appointed  Custodian  of  Bates  Hall. 

With  absolute  devotion  he  gave 
to  the  discharge  of  the  duties  of  his 
office  an  unintermittent  service  of 
nearly  twenty-four  years.  To  the 
value  of  those  services,  rendered  with 
intense  conscientiousness  and  genu- 
ine interest,  all  who  have  had  occa- 
sion to  use  the  Boston  Public  Library 
can  bear  witness. 

His  knowledge  of  Shakespear- 
iana  and  Elizabethan  literature  was 
special  and  thorough,  and  greatly 
serviceable  in  the  preparation  of 
the  catalogue  of  the  Barton  collec- 
tion, while  the  general  knowledge  of 

101 


the  Library  gained  by  him  in  the  in- 
terpretation of  its  resources  during 
twenty  years'  conduct  of  the  chief 
reference  department  of  the  Library 
was  of  immense  avail  to  a  large  con- 
stituency of  readers. 

Mr.  Knapp  married  July  2,  1873, 
Miss  Abbie  Bartlett,  daughter  of  the 
late  James  Bartlett  of  Brookline  ;  she 
died  January  26,  1876.  Since  her 
death  he  has  lived  in  this  city  with 
his  widowed  mother  and  his  sister, 
who,  with  a  brother,  survive  him. 
He  was  a  member  of  Shawmut  Con- 
gregational Church,  to  which  he  was 
a  generous  giver.  His  funeral  will 
be  from  that  church  on  Friday  after- 
noon at  two  o'clock.  Rev.  William 
E.  Barton  will  officiate  at  the  serv- 
ices, and  among  the  pall-bearers  will 
be  Herbert  Putnam,  James  L.  Whit- 
ney, and  Lindsay  Swift  of  the  Public 
Library.  In  the  hallway  of  the 
Library  building  has  been  placed  a 
large  wreath,  tied  with  a  black  rib- 
bon, and  bearing  an  inscription  in 
memory  of  Mr.  Knapp. 

102 


From  the  Boston  Journal,  omitting  facts  previously 
given:  — 

Mr.  Knapp's  official  title  was  Cus- 
todian of  Bates  Hall.  He  it  was  to 
whom  would-be  readers  or  investiga- 
tors turned  for  information  and  help 
in  selecting  material  for  reference  or 
reading.  It  was  his  business  to 
know  what  was  at  hand  and  to  help 
persons  to  it.  And  in  his  quiet  way 
he  did  much  to  aid  many.  Probably 
no  one  in  the  Library  was  more  uni- 
versally liked  than  was  he,  and  that 
not  only  by  the  public,  but  by  the 
employees  as  well.  This  is  shown  by 
the  number  of  communications  that 
have  poured  in  to  the  Librarian  from 
many  persons  that  had  known  Mr. 
Knapp,  either  as  readers  or  as  former 
employees  of  the  Library,  who  hasten 
thus  to  express  sorrow  for  the  loss  of 
such  a  helper,  and  to  testify  to  his 
worth. 

He  was  graduated  from  Harvard 
College  in  1863. 


103 


From  The  Congregationalist :  — 

A  PUBLIC  SERVANT. 

Arthur  Mason  Knapp,  who  died 
December  27,  had  probably  rendered 
as  definite  and  helpful  services  to  the 
citizens  of  Boston  in  general  during 
the  last  twenty  years  as  any  of  his 
contemporaries.  His  position  in  the 
Public  Library,  where  he  had  charge 
of  Bates  Hall  and  the  card  catalogue, 
brought  hosts  of  people  to  him  to 
make  inquiries  concerning  service- 
able literature.  His  remarkable 
knowledge  of  books,  as  well  as  his 
fund  of  information  on  all  sorts  of 
subjects,  made  him  an  invaluable 
counselor,  while  his  quiet,  even  man- 
ner left  its  impress  upon  all  who 
came  in  contact  with  him.  In  the 
life  of  Shawmut  Church,  which  he 
had  attended  for  many  years,  he  filled 
his  own  peculiar  and  important  place. 

From  the  Boston  Pilot :  — 

In    recording    the    death    of  Mr. 
Arthur   M.    Knapp,    Custodian    and 
Librarian  in  Bates  Hall  of  the  Bos- 
104 


ton  Public  Library,  which  occurred 
on  Tuesday,  December  27,  1898,  the 
Pilot  desires  to  add  its  tribute  to  that 
of  the  general  expression  of  regret  at 
the  public  loss  at  his  demise.  For 
Mr.  Knapp's  scholarly  attributes, 
general  fund  of  information,  and  un- 
varying urbanity  and  readiness  to 
put  that  information  at  the  disposal 
of  all,  the  Pilot  is  at  one  with  the 
cordial  acknowledgment  in  these 
regards,  of  the  myriads  who  had  the 
pleasure  of  Mr.  Knapp's  friendship. 
It  is  no  underrating  of  his  successor 
to  hope  that  even  at  a  long  distance 
he  may  be  able  to  follow  such  an 
amiable  public  official. 

From  Time  and  the  Hour  :  — 

Mr.  Knapp  will  be  missed  by  the 
old  habitues  of  the  Public  Library 
more  than  any  other  officer  there, 
since  he  was  for  so  many  years  the 
"  man  at  the  front "  during  the  day- 
time. He  enjoyed  the  best  sort  of 
popularity,  won  by  courtesy,  urban- 
ity, and  evenness  of  temper.  He 


was  unassuming  in  bearing,  but  no 
man  was  more  competent  than  he  in 
his  calling.  His  service  as  Custodian 
of  Bates  Hall,  covering  nearly  a 
quarter  of  a  century,  had  made  him 
a  master  of  his  particular  art.  He 
was  a  Harvard  man,  graduating  in  a 
class  which  embraced  a  number  of 
men  who  have  become  conspicuous 
in  their  professions  and  trades  here 
in  Boston,  among  them  Charles  P. 
Bowditch,  Francis  C.  Loring,  Dr. 
George  B.  Shattuck,  James  Brown, 
the  publisher,  Andrew  J.  Bailey,  our 
city  solicitor,  Dr.  John  C.  Warren, 
Henry  N.  Sheldon,  George  B.  Chase. 
Beginning  his  career  as  a  tutor  and 
then  a  schoolmaster,  first  in  Phillips 
(Andover)  Academy,  then  in  Brook- 
line,  and  for  a  short  time  in  the  Bos- 
ton Latin  School,  where  he  had  been 
prepared  for  college,  he  entered  the 
Public  Library  service  in  his  young 
manhood,  so  that  the  best  of  his  life 
has  been  devoted  to  it.  He  has  left 
his  mark  as  the  compiler  of  the 
Barton  Library  catalogue,  of  a  cata- 
106 


logue  of  family  histories,  of  the 
index  to  the  portraits  in  the  Thayer 
collection,  the  list  of  portraits  of 
Franklin  owned  by  the  Library,  and 
of  sundry  other  useful  works.  He 
was  a  lover  of  books  and  an  intelli- 
gent collector,  interested  especially 
in  illuminated  manuscripts,  of  which 
he  possessed  a  choice  collection.  He 
also  found  pleasure  and  some  profit 
in  collecting  coins  and  medals.  He 
was  a  good  citizen,  faithful  to  every 
duty,  and  went  his  quiet  way  evenly 
and  without  reproach.  Who  could 
ask  a  better  epitaph  ? 

From  the  Bangor  Saturday  Commercial :  — 

The  editor  of  this  department  of 
the  Saturday  Commercial  feels  a 
keen  personal  loss  in  the  death  of 
Mr.  Arthur  M.  Knapp,  Custodian  of 
Bates  Hall,  of  the  Boston  Public 
Library.  While  preparing  a  work 
upon  an  entirely  new  and  somewhat 
difficult  subject  which  was  published 
in  New  York  in  1894,  we  had  occa- 
sion to  spend  a  considerable  time  in 
107 


searching  authorities  and  out-of-the- 
way  books  in  that  magnificent  refer- 
ence library.  This  work  extended 
over  a  considerable  time  for  two 
years,  at  intervals,  during  which  we 
had  our  separate  working  table  with 
just  as  many  volumes  at  a  time  as 
were  wanted.  Mr.  Knapp  was  con- 
stant and  kindly  in  his  attentions, 
always  ready  to  assist,  to  offer  sug- 
gestions, and  put  us  on  the  track  of 
information.  Our  books  were  left 
just  where  we  stopped  work  at  night 
and  were  ready  for  us  in  the  morn- 
ing, with  Mr.  Knapp's  gentle  and 
helpful  ways  to  assist  in  the  day's 
work.  It  was  a  pleasure  to  make 
public  acknowledgment  of  Mr. 
Knapp's  aid  in  the  introduction  to 
that  work,  and  to  present  a  copy  to 
the  Bates  Hall  shelves  as  a  further 
acknowledgment  of  our  indebtedness 
to  that  magnificent  Library. 


108 


Lilian   Whiting,  in   the  Boston  Budget,  January  i, 
1899:— 

THE  WORLD   BEAUTIFUL. 

In  the  way  of  a  faithful  and  noble 
life,  which  gave  itself  with  the  rarest 
self-abnegation,  patience,  and  gentle- 
ness to  the  service  of  each  and  all, 
that  of  Arthur  Mason  Knapp,  Cura- 
tor of  Bates  Hall  in  the  Public 
Library,  may  well  be  held  in  rever- 
ence and  forever  enshrined  in  the 
World  Beautiful.  A  personality  so 
delicately  unobtrusive,  so  swift  in 
sympathetic  response,  and  so  gen- 
erous in  its  aid  to  every  seeker, 
came  to  be,  to  the  multitude  of  stu- 
dents and  visitors  in  the  Library, 
almost  as  the  air  or  the  sunlight,  and 
only  when  it  is  forever  vanished  from 
our  sight  do  we  realize  how  in  Mr. 
Knapp  were  embodied  those  high 
qualities  which  the  followers  of  the 
divine  life  may  well  pause  to  con- 
sider. There  was  almost  no  other 
individual  in  the  city  who  was  in 
personal  contact  with  so  many  peo- 
ple as  was  Mr.  Knapp.  Daily,  for 
109 


twenty-three  years,  he  had  directed 
the  most  important  and  most  popu- 
lous department  of  the  Library.  An 
habitut  of  Bates  Hall  could  not  but 
take  into  his  life  the  lesson  of  the 
patience,  the  gentleness,  the  flaw- 
less courtesy  that  characterized  Mr. 
Knapp.  His  presence  had  a  benig- 
nant character  that  seemed  to  radiate 
a  certain  serene  uplifting.  Frivolity 
shrank  abashed  from  the  atmosphere 
of  simple,  earnest,  scholarly  activity 
with  which  he  invested  the  depart- 
mental work.  His  unvarying  cour- 
tesy tacitly  compelled  or  rather  in- 
spired courtesy  in  others.  To  the 
learned  or  the  ignorant,  the  loftiest 
or  the  lowliest,  he  was  always  the 
same  simple,  considerate,  gracious 
gentleman.  If  a  manner  so  uncon- 
scious and  unobtrusive  as  his  could 
invite  characterization,  it  would 
suggest  the  ethics  as  expressed  by 
Hamlet  to  Polonius.  "  My  lord,"  said 
Polonius,  "  I  will  use  them  according 
to  their  deserts."  But  the  Prince  re- 
plied, "  No ;  use  them  after  your 
no 


own  honor  and  dignity."  These 
words  perfectly  describe  the  manner 
of  the  learned  and  beloved  Curator 
—  that  of  treating  every  person 
according  to  his  own  high  standard 
of  honor  and  dignity.  Nor  in  thus 
dwelling  for  a  moment  on  his  manner 
is  there  emphasized  a  mere  incidental 
matter  devoid  of  significance.  Man- 
ners are  not  only  as  important  as 
morals,  but  to  a  great  degree  are  the 
expression,  the  register  that  indicates 
the  degree  of  moral  achievement. 
As  Tennyson  well  says  :  — 

"  For  manners  are  not  idle,  but  the  fruit 
Of  loyal  nature  and  of  noble  mind." 

In  such  an  office  as  that  held  by 
Mr.  Knapp  the  manner  and  the  per- 
sonal presence  were  most  significant 
factors.  Here  there  were  pouring  in 
hundreds  of  persons  each  day,  com- 
prising all  classes,  and  including 
many  visitors  from  afar,  as  well  as 
the  residents  of  the  city.  From 
nearly  each  one  of  all  the  vast  and 
varying  throng  were  made  continual 
in 


demands  upon  the  Curator.  The 
information,  advice,  or  directions 
asked  of  him  were  of  the  widest 
range,  and  his  treasures  of  learning, 
his  specific  knowledge  of  books,  his 
wise  suggestions  were  generously 
given.  To  each  and  all  he  gave 
freely  of  his  best.  The  only  limita- 
tion was  in  the  receptivity  of  the 
inquirer,  not  with  the  knowledge  he 
imparted  or  the  counsel  he  gave. 
The  nervous  strain  of  turning  the 
mind  to  a  different  subject  a  dozen 
times  an  hour ;  of  directing  the  in- 
quirer to  certain  places  for  books,  or 
of  going  himself  in  pursuit  of  rare 
volumes,  as  he  so  frequently  and 
constantly  did  —  the  nervous  tax  of 
such  work  is  beyond  computation. 
Yet  never  was  there  the  slightest 
irritation  or  impatience  on  his  part. 
Always  was  he  the  same  patient, 
considerate,  generous,  and  courteous 
gentleman.  He  spent  his  life  and 
his  time  in  those  high  pursuits  and 
in  that  state  of  mental  and  moral 
aspiration  that  allowed  the  spirit  to 

112 


evolve,  and  he  lived,  while  here,  the 
spiritual  life.  In  a  most  vital  way 
was  he  "the  friend  and  aider  of  all 
who  would  live  in  the  spirit."  The 
literal  manner  in  which  one  may 
seek,  first,  the  kingdom  of  God  and 
his  righteousness  is  to  fulfill  one's 
duties.  .  .  . 

Knowledge  changes  into  character, 
and  how  greatly  then  does  one  who 
so  wisely  guides  multitudes  to  knowl- 
edge as  did  Mr.  Knapp  influence  and 
help  to  predetermine  the  general 
character  of  the  community.  The 
spacious  interior  of  our  noble  Library 
could  not  have  contained  the  wreaths 
if  each  one,  whose  life  has  been  en- 
larged and  uplifted  by  Mr.  Knapp, 
had  brought  there  his  tribute. 

"Without  me,  ye  can  do  nothing." 
No  one  more  truly  felt  the  inner 
reliance  of  these  words  than  our 
friend,  whose  life  was  so  pure  and 
faithful  a  following  of  the  Christ. 
What  can  be  said  more  than  that  he 
was  a  Christian  gentleman ;  one 
whose  character  it  is  good  to  dwell 


upon  in  setting  out  on  the  pilgrim- 
age of  the  new  year.  He  was  a 
faithful  servant  of  Christ.  He  fed 
his  life  constantly  from  the  divine 
springs,  and  he  lived  his  religion. 
When  some  of  those  to  whom  his 
work  was  sacred  and  his  presence 
dear  gathered  to  pay  the  last  earthly 
tribute,  the  keynote  of  the  beautiful 
words  by  his  pastor,  Rev.  Dr.  Barton, 
and  by  Rev.  Dr.  DeNormandie,  as 
one  of  the  trustees  of  the  Library 
—  the  keynote  of  the  expression  was 
that  he  was  faithful.  The  simple 
expression  holds  untold  significance. 
To  be  faithful  in  life  —  this  may  well 
be  the  aspiration  and  the  purpose  of 
every  heart. 

The  new  year  is  the  festival  of 
faith.  It  is  the  annual  covenant  be- 
tween the  soul  and  God.  With  the 
high  ideal  of  a  life  of  faith  shall  ever 
be  linked  the  name  of  him  who  in- 
vested the  aspiration  with  new  and 
noble  possibilities  of  fulfillment  — 
Arthur  Mason  Knapp. 


114 


Oscar  Fay  Adams,  in  Boston  Evening    Transcript, 
December  jo :  — 

ARTHUR   MASON  KNAPP 
1839-1898. 

Now  when  they  came  to  look  upon 
the  face  of  him  who  had  died  ere  he 
had  come  to  threescore  years,  there 
were  some  who  would  fain  have  la- 
mented sore,  and  beat  the  breast  by 
reason  of  their  sorrow,  for  they  had 
loved  him  much.  And  then  it  was 
as  if  a  bright  mist  was  suddenly 
spread  about  them  and  their  grief 
was  stilled,  while  from  out  of  the 
mist-cloud  came,  as  it  were,  voices, 
but  very  sweet,  such  as  none  had 
ever  before  heard  their  like.  And 
the  voices  made,  as  it  might  be, 
speech  with  one  another,  and  the 
matter  of  their  speech  was  all  of  what 
he  had  done  for  each  of  them,  who 
himself  had  now  with  time  no  more 
to  do.  And  the  voices  had  ever 
their  one  tale  to  tell,  the  tale  of  help 
from  him,  and  moreover  of  how  he 
had  counted  not  himself  of  any  worth 
soever,  but  only  so  as  he  might  serve 
"5 


those  who  ever  came  to  him  daily. 
And  there  were  innumerable  of  these 
voices,  and  they  made  sweet  melody 
together  that  day.  And  presently 
their  fair,  sweet  speech  with  one  an- 
other came  to  an  end,  and  there  were 
heard  yet  other  voices  chanting,  so 
as  it  were,  a  great  way  off,  but  of 
their  chanting  might  those  who  stood 
within  the  bright  mist-cloud  hear  only 
the  one  word  "faithful,"  but  none 
other  clearly.  And  when  these 
voices  had  made  an  end  in  their 
turn,  and  their  melody  was  quite  de- 
parted, they  who  had  listened  were 
fain  to  go  their  ways  and  were  not  a 
little  comforted  among  themselves 
by  reason  of  the  melody  that  had 
reached  their  ears  that  day. 


116 


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